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OLIVEB  CBOMWELL. 


/IDalicrs  ot  Ibistors 


Charles  II. 


By    JACOB    ABBOTT 


WITH  ENGRAVINGS 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

HARPER  '&    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

1904 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  forty-nine,  by 

Harper  &  Brothers, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


Copyright,  1877,  by  Jacob  Abbott. 


pif '^'^'H7rr^u3L 


PREFACE. 


The  author  of  this  series  has  made  it  his  spe- 
cial object  to  confine  himself  very  strictly,  even 
in  the  most  minute  details  which  he  records,  to 
liistoric  truth.  The  narratives  are  not  tales 
founded  upon  history,  but  history  itself,  with- 
out any  embellishment  or  any  deviations  from 
the  strict  truth,  so  far  as  it  can  now  be  discov- 
ered by  an  attentive  examination  of  the  annals 
written  at  the  time  when  the  events  them- 
selves occurred.  In  writing  the  narratives, 
the  author  has  endeavored  to  avail  himself  of 
the  best  sources  of  information  which  this 
country  affords ;  and  though,  of  course,  there 
must  be  in  these  volumes,  as  in  all  historical 
accounts,  more  or  less  of  imperfection  and  er« 
ror,  there  is  no  intentional  embellishment. 
Nothing  is  stated,  not  even  the  most  minute 


Viii  P  B  E  F  A  0  E. 

and  apparently  imaginary  details,  without  what 
was  deemed  good  historical  authority.  The 
readers,  therefore,  may  rely  upon  the  record 
as  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  so  far 
as  an  honest  purpose  and  a  careful  examina- 
tion have  been  effectual  in  ascertaining  it. 


CONTENTS. 


I.   INFANCY 13 

II.  PRiNCK  Charles's  mother  ................  30 

III.  QUEEN  Henrietta's  flight 52 

IT.   ESCAPE  OF  THE    CHILDREN 73 

T.  THE    prince's   RECEPTION   AT   PARIS 95 

TI.   NEOOTIATIONS    WITH    ANNE    MARIA 112 

Til.   THE    ROTAL   OAK   OF   BOSCOBEL 138 

Tin.  THE  king's  escape  to  FRANCK 174 

IX.   THE    RESTORATION 197 

X.    THE  MARRIAGE 216 

XI.  CHARACTER  AND   REIGN 243 

XII.  CONCLUSION ^ .»...-...••  883 


ENGRAVINGS. 


THE  DUTCH  SQUADRON  IN  THE  THkUES. . .Frontispiece. 

THE  PARTING  AT  DOVER 36 

VIEW  OF  EXETER 55 

THE  LOUVRE 74 

ESCAPE    or   THE    PRINCESS   HENRIETTA 81 

THE    EVASION    OF    LOUIS   THE    FOURTEENTH 116 

TIEW   OF   WORCESTER 146 

THE   KING   AT  BOSCOBEL 169 

CHARLES  THE   SECOND 213 

THE   BRIDAL  PARTS'   AT  LISBON 236 

CATHARINE   OF   BRA6ANZA 240 

THE   BROADSTONK 261 

THE    MCNrMENT,. 265 


KING  CHARLES  II 

Chapter  I. 
Ikpancy. 


ChulM  &•  ¥int  md  Seeond.  Tha  nam*  Charles  diopp«d. 

KING  CHARLES  THE  SECOND  waa 
the  son  and  sncoessor  of  King  Charles  the 
First.  These  two  are  the  only  kings  of  the  name 
of  Charles  that  have  appeared,  thus  far,  in  the 
line  of  English  sovereigns.  Nor  is  it  very  prob- 
able that  there  will  soon  be  another.  The  reigns 
of  both  these  monarohs  were  stained  and  tar- 
nished  witii  many  vioes  and  crimes,  and  dark- 
ened by  national  disasters  of  every  kind,  and 
the  name  is  thus  oonneoted  with  so  many  pain- 
fdl  associations  in  the  minds  of  men,  that  it 
seems  to  have  been  dropped,  by  common  ooil^ 
•ent,  in  all  branches  of  the  royal  family. 

The  reign  of  Charles  the  First,  as  will  be  seoa 
Dy  the  history  of  his  life  in  this  series,  was  char- 
aoterized  by  a  long  and  obstinate  contest  bo* 
tween  the  king  and  the  people,  which  brought 
on  at  last  a  civil  war,  in  whic^  the  king  wae 


14  Kino  Charles  IL  [1630 

TtmAIm  of  Charlea't  early  life.  A  dmOa 

defeated  and  taken  prisoner,  and  in  the  end  be- 
headed on  a  block,  before  one  of  his  own  paUu 
oes.  During  the  last  stages  of  this  terrible  con. 
test,  and  before  Charles  was  himself  taken  pris- 
oner, he  was,  as  it  were,  a  fugitive  and  an  out- 
law in  his  own  dominions.  His  wife  and  fam- 
ily were  scattered  in  various  foreign  lands,  his 
cities  and  castles  were  in  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies, and  his  oldest  son,'the  prince  Charles,  was 
the  object  of  special  hostility.  The  prince  in- 
curred, therefore,  a  great  many  dangers,  and 
suffered  many  heavy  calamities  in  his  early 
years.  He  lived  to  see  these  calamities  pass 
away,  and,  after  they  were  gone,  he  enjoyed,  s« 
far  as  his  own  personal  safety  and  welfare  were 
concerned,  a  tranquil  and  prosperous  life.  The 
storm,  however,  of  trial  and  suffering  which  en- 
veloped the  evening  of  his  father's  days,  dark- 
ened the  morning  of  his  own.  The  life  of  Charles 
the  First  was  a  river  rising  gently,  from  quiet 
springs,  in  a  scene  of  verdure  and  sunshine,  and 
flowing  gradually  into  rugged  and  gloomy  re> 
gions,  where  at  last  it  falls  into  a  terrific  abyss, 
enveloped  in  darkness  and  storms.  That  of 
Charles  the  Second,  on  the  other  hand,  rising 
in  the  wild  and  rugged  mountains  where  the 
parent  stream   was   ingulfed,  commences   its 


1630.]  In  FANCY.  15 

Heniietto  If  srla.  Her  eharactar  aad  i«tl<;lo« 

course  by  leaping  frightfully  from  precipice  to 
precipice,  with  turbid  and  foaming  waters,  but 
emerges  at  last  into  a  smooth  aud  smiling  land, 
and  flows  through  it  prosperously  to  the  sea. 

Prince  Charles's  mother,  the  wife  of  Charles 
the  First,  was  a  French  princess.  Her  name 
was  Henrietta  Maria.  She  was  an  accom- 
plished, beautiful,  and  very  spirited  woman. 
She  was  a  Catholic,  and  the  English  people, 
who  were  very  decided  in  their  hostility  to  the 
Catholic  faith,  were  extremely  jealous  of  her. 
They  watched  all  her  movements  with  the  ut- 
most suspicion.  They  were  very  unwilling  that 
an  heir  to  the  crown  should  arise  in  her  family 
The  animosity  which  they  felt  against  her  hus- 
band the  king,  which  was  becoming  every  day 
more  and  more  bitter,  seemed  to  be  doubly  in- 
veterate £ind  intense  toward  her.  They  publish- 
ed pamphlets,  in  which  they  called  her  a  daugh- 
ter of  Heth,  a  Canaanite,  and  an  idolatress,  and 
expressed  hopes  that  from  such  a  worse  than 
pagan  stock  no  progeny  should  ever  spring. 

Henrietta  was  at  this  time — 1630 — twenty- 
one  years  of  age,  and  had  been  married  about 
four  years.  She  had  had  one  son,  who  had  died 
a  few  days  after  his  birth.  Of  course,  she  did 
not  lead  a  Tery  happy  life  in  England.     Har 


16  KiNe  Charles  II.  [1630. 

ftaUglou  diMMuiona.  Btrtfa  of  the  priiio» 

hnsband  the  king,  like  the  majority  of  the  En- 
glish people,  was  a  Protestant,  and  the  differ- 
ence was  a  far  more  important  circnmstanoe  in 
those  days  than  it  would  be  now ;  though  even 
now  a  difference  in  religious  faith,  on  points 
which  either  party  deems  essential,  is,  in  mar- 
ried life,  an  obstacle  to  domestic  happiness, 
which  comes  to  no  termination,  and  admits  of 
no  cure.  If  it  were  possible  for  reason  and  re- 
flection to  control  the  impetuous  impulses  of 
youthful  hearts,  such  differences  of  religious 
faith  would  be  regarded,  where  they  exist,  as 
an  insurmountable  objection  to  a  matrimonial 
union. 

The  queen,  made  thus  unhappy  by  religious 
dissensions  with  her  husband,  and  by  the  pub- 
lic odium  of  which  she  was  the  object,  lived  in 
considerable  retirement  and  seclusion  at  St. 
James's  Palace,  in  Westminster,  which  is  the 
western  part  of  London.  Here  her  second  son, 
the  subject  of  this  history,  was  born,  in  May, 
1630,  which  was  ten  years  after  the  landing  of 
the  pilgrims  on  the  Plymouth  rock.  The  babe 
was  very  far  from  being  pretty,  though  he  grew 
up  at  last  to  be  quite  a  handsome  man.  King 
Charles  was  very  much  pleased  at  the  birth  of 
his  son.     He  rode  into  London  the  next  mom- 


1630.]  iNFAKCY.  17 

lltfl  Idiif  glTM  pabUo  tfaanka.         *  lite  itar  leen  at  midi*j. 

uig  at  the  head  of  a  long  train  of  guards  and 
noble  attendants,  to  the  great  cathedral  church 
of  St.  Paul's,  to  render  thanks  publicly  to  God 
for  the  birth  of  his  child  and  the  safety  of  the 
queen.  While  this  procession  was  going  through 
the  streets,  all  London  being  out  to  gaze  upon 
it,  the  attention  of  the  vast  crowd  was  attract- 
ed to  the  appearance  of  a  star  glimmering  faint- 
ly in  the  sky  at  midday.  This  is  an  occurrence 
not  very  uncommon,  though  it  seldom,  perhaps, 
occurs  when  it  has  so  many  observers  to  wit- 
ness it.  The  star  was  doubtless  Venus,  which, 
in  certain  circumstances,  is  often  bright  enough 
to  be  seen  when  the  sun  is  above  the  horizon. 
The  populace  of  London,  however,  who  wore 
not  in  those  days  very  profound  astronomers,  re- 
garded the  shining  of  the  star  as  a  supernatu- 
ral occurrence  altogether,  and  as  portending  the 
future  greatness  and  glory  of  the  prince  whose 
natal  day  it  thus  unexpectedly  adorned. 

Preparations  were  made  for  the  baptism  of 
the  young  prince  in  July.  The  baptism  of  a 
prince  is  an  important  affair,  and  there  wa» 
one  circumstance  which  gave  a  peculiar  inter- 
est to  that  of  the  infant  Charles.  The  Refor- 
mation had  not  been  long  established  in  En- 
gland, and  thifl  happened  to  be  the  first  oooa- 
23—2 


18  KiNe  Charlbs  II.  [1630 

The  bi^tlim.  Th«  •p«BMr» 

aion  on  which  an  heir  to  the  English  crown  had 
been  bapti2ed  since  the  Liturgy  of  the  English 
Church  had  been  arranged  There  is  a  chapel 
connected  with  the  palace  of  St.  James,  as  is 
nsnal  with  royal  palaces  in  Europe,  and  even, 
in  fact,  with  the  private  castles  and  mansionff 
of  the  higher  nobility.  The  baptism  took  place 
there.  On  such  occasions  it  is  usual  for  certain 
persons  to  appear  as  sponsors,  as  they  are  called, 
who  undertake  to  answer  for  the  safe  and  care 
ful  instruction  of  the  child  in  the  principles  of 
the  Christian  faith.  This  is,  of  course,  mainl/ 
a  form,  the  real  function  of  the  sponsors  being 
confined,  as  it  would  appear,  to  making  mag- 
nificent presents  to  their  young  godchild,  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  distinguished  honor  con- 
ferred upon  them  by  their  designation  to  the 
office  which  they  hold.  The  sponsors,  on  this  oc- 
casion, were  certain  royal  personages  in  France, 
the  relatives  of  the  queen.  They  could  not  ap- 
pear personally,  and  so  they  appointed  proxies 
from  among  the  higher  nobility  of  England, 
who  appeared  at  the  baptism  in  their  stead,  and 
made  the  presents  to  the  child.  One  of  these 
proxies  was  a  duchess,  whose  gift  was  a  jewel 
valued  at  a  sum  in  English  money  equal  to  thir- 
ty thousand  doUars. 


1630.J  1h  FANCY.  It 

Booaebold  of  the  little  prince.  Vmm  to  ■errant*  a»d  i 


The  oldest  son  of  a  king  of  England  receivoe 
the  title  of  Prince  of  Wales ;  and  there  was  an 
ancient  custom  of  the  realm,  that  an  infant 
prince  of  Wales  should  be  under  the  care,  in  hii 
earliest  years,  of  a  Welsh  nurse,  so  that  the 
first  words  which  he  should  learn  to  speak  might 
be  the  vernacular  language  of  his  principality. 
Such  a  nurse  was  provided  for  Charles.  Rock- 
ers for  his  cradle  were  appointed,  and  many  oth- 
er officers  of  his  household,  all  the  arrangd- 
ments  being  made  in  a  very  magnificent  and 
sumptuous  manner.  It  is  the  custom  in  En- 
gland to  pay  fees  to  the  servants  by  which  a 
Ady  or  gentleman  is  attended,  even  when  a 
guest  in  private  dwellings ;  and  some  idea  may 
be  formed  of  the  scale  on  which  the  pageantry 
of  this  occasion  was  conducted,  from  the  fact 
that  one  of  the  lady  sponsors  who  rode  to  the 
palace  in  the  queen's  carriage,  which  was  sent 
for  her  on  this  occasion,  paid  a  sum  equal  to 
fifty  dollars  eadh  to  six  running  footmen  who 
attended  the  carriage,  and  a  hundred  dollars  to 
the  coachman  ;  while  a  number  of  knights  who 
eame  on  horseback  and  in  armor  to  attend  upon 
the  carriage,  as  it  moved  to  the  palace,  receiv- 
ed each  a  gratuity  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  dtd- 
lars.     The  state  dresses  on  the  occasion  of  thi« 


20  King  Charles   II.  [1630. 

Portrait  of  the  piinee.  The  people  Jealotu  of  hlB  mother. 

baptism  were  very  costly  and  splendid,  being 
of  white  satin  trimmed  with  crimson. 

The  little  prince  was  thus  an  object  of  great 
attention  at  the  very  commencement  of  his  days. 
His  mother  had  his  portrait  painted,  and  sent 
it  to  her  mother  in  France.  She  did  not,  how- 
ever, in  the  letters  which  accompanied  the  pic- 
ture, though  his  mother,  praise  the  beauty  of 
her  child.  She  said,  in  fact,  that  he  was  so 
ugly  that  she  was  ashamed  of  him,  though  his 
«iize  and  plumpness,  she  added,  atoned  for  the 
want  of  beauty.  And  then  he  was  so  comical- 
ly serious  and  grave  in  the  expression  of  his 
countenance!  the  queen  said  she  verily  believ- 
ed that  he  was  wiser  than  herself 

As  the  young  prince  advanced  in  years,  the 
religious  and  political  difficulties  in  the  English 
nation  increased,  and  by  the  time  that  he  had 
arrived  at  an  age  when  he  could  begin  to  re- 
ceive impressions  from  the  conversation  and  in- 
terccmrse  of  those  around  him,  the  Parliament 
began  to  be  very  jealous  of  the  influence  which 
his  mother  might  exert.  They  were  extreme- 
ly anxious  that  he  should  be  educatetl  a  Prot- 
estant, and  were  very  much  afraid  that  his 
mother  would  contrive  to  initiate  him  secretly 
into  the  ideas  and  practices  of  the  Catholic  faith 


1630.]  Infancy.  21 

The  crocldz  and  rocarf .  AetUo  of  PuHuMBt 

She  insisted  that  she  did  not  attempt  to  do  this, 
and  perhaps  she  did  not;  but  in  those  days  it 
was  often  considered  right  to  make  false  pre- 
tensions and  to  deceive,  so  far  as  this  was  nec- 
essary to  promote  the  cause  of  true  religion. 
The  queen  did  certainly  make  some  efforts  tc 
instill  Catholic  principles  into  the  minds  of  some 
of  her  children;  for  she  had  other  children  after 
the  birth  of  Charles.  She  gave  a  daughter  a 
crucifix  one  day,  which  is  a  little  image  of  Christ 
upon  the  cross,  made  usually  of  ivory,  or  silver, 
or  gold,  and  also  a  rosary,  which  is  a  string  of 
beads,  by  means  of  which  the  Catholics  are  as- 
sisted to  count  their  prayers.  Henrietta  gave 
these  things  to  her  daughter  secretly,  and  told 
her  to  hide  them  in  her  pocket,  and  taught  her 
how  to  use  them.  The  Parliament  considered 
such  attempts  to  influence  the  minds  of  the  roy- 
al children  as  very  heinous  sins,  and  they  made 
such  arrangements  for  secluding  the  young 
prince  Charles  from  his  mother,  and  putting  the 
others  under  the  guidance  of  Protestant  teach- 
ers and  governors,  as  very  much  interfered  with 
Henrietta's  desires  to  enjoy  the  society  of  her 
children.  Since  England  was  a  Protestant 
realm,  a  Catholic  lady,  in  marrying  an  English 
king,  ought  not  to  have  expected,  perhaps,  to 


23  Kino  Charles  1L  [1630 

have  been  allowed  to  bring  up  her  children  in 
her  own  faith ;  still,  it  must  have  been  very  hard 
for  a  mother  to  be  forbidden  to  teach  her  own 
children  what  she  undoubtedly  believed  was  the 
only  possible  means  of  securing  for  them  the  fin- 
vor  and  protection  of  HeaveiL 

There  is  in  London  a  vast  storehouse  of  bookii, 
manuscripts,  relics,  curiosities,  pictures,  and 
other  memorials  of  by-gone  days,  called  th« 
British  Museum.  Among  the  old  records  her* 
preserved  are  various  letters  written  by  Henri- 
etta, and  one  or  two  by  Charles,  the  young 
prince,  during  his  childhood.  Here  is  one,  foe 
instance,  written  by  Henrietta  to  her  child 
when  the  little  prince  was  but  eight  years  of 
age,  chiding  him  for  not  being  willing  to  take 
his  medicine.  He  was  at  that  time  under  the 
charge  of  Lord  Newcastle. 

"  Charles, — I  am  sorry  that  I  must  begin  mj  first  letter 
with  chiding  yoa,  became  I  hear  that  jon  will  not  take  phia- 
icke.  I  hope  it  waa  onlie  for  this  day,  and  that  to-morrow  job 
win  do  it  for  if  joa  will  not,  I  mast  eome  to  yon,  and  maim 
yon  take  it ;  for  it  is  for  yonr  health.  I  hare  giren  order  tn 
uii  Lord  of  Newcastle  to  send  mi  word  to-night  whether  yoa 
win  or  not  Therefore  I  hope  yon  will  not  gire  me  (he  paiaes 
to  g(w  I  and  so  I  rest,  yonr  affectionate  mother, 

"  HCVRUTTX  Mi 

The  letter  was  addressed 

To  Mi  dkakk  Sorub  the  rii*ae 


1630.J  Infamoy.  23 

Hi*  dlfflenltiM  of  tfa*  Ung  IncreaM.  He  goea  tc  Bantlini 

The  queen  must  have  taken  special  pains 
with  this  her  first  letter  to  her  son,  for,  with  all 
its  faults  of  orthography,  it  is  very  much  more 
correct  than  most  of  the  epistles  which  she  at- 
tempted to  write  in  English.  She  was  rery 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  English  lan- 
guage, using,  as  she  almost  always  did,  in  her 
domestic  intercourse,  her  own  native  tongue. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  difficulties  and  con- 
tests between  King  Charles  and  his  people  and 
Parliament  became  more  and  more  exciting  and 
alarming.  One  after  another  of  the  king's  most 
devoted  and  faithful  ministers  wtis  arrested, 
tried,  condemned,  and  beheaded,  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  efforts  which  their  sovereign  mas- 
ter could  make  to  save  them.  Parties  were 
formed,  and  party  spirit  ran  very  high.  Tu- 
mults were  continually  breaking  out  about  the 
palaces,  which  threatened  the  personal  safety 
of  the  king  and  queen.  Henrietta  herself  was 
a  special  object  of  the  hatred  which  these  out- 
iH'eaks  expressed.  The  king  himself  was  half 
distracted  by  the  overwhelming  difficulties  of 
Us  position.  Bad  as  it  was  in  England,  it  was 
•till  worse  in  Scotland.  There  was  an  actual 
rebellion  there,  and  the  urgency  of  the  danger 
in  that  quarter  was  so  great  that  Charles  oon- 


24  Kino  Charles   II.  il630. 

Tha  qOMa  |om  to  OaflaacU.  H«r  trtak 

eluded  to  go  there^  leaving  the  poor  queen  at 
home  to  take  care  of  herself  and  her  little  ones 
as  well  as  she  could,  with  the  few  remaining 
means  of  protection  yet  left  at  her  disposal. 

There  was  an  ancient  mansion,  called  Oat- 
lands,  not  very  far  from  London,  where  the 
queen  generally  resided  during  the  absenoe  of 
her  husband.  It  was  a  lonely  place,  on  low 
and  level  ground,  and  surrounded  by  moats 
filled  with  water,  over  which  those  who  wished 
to  enter  passed  by  draw-bridges.  Henrietta 
chose  this  place  for  her  residence  because  she 
thought  she  should  be  safer  there  from  mobs 
and  violence.  She  kept  the  children  all  there 
except  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  was  not  al- 
lowed to  be  wholly  under  her  care.  He,  how 
•Tcr,  often  visited  his  mother,  and  she  some- 
times visited  him. 

During  the  absenoe  of  her  husband,  Queen 
Henrietta  was  subjected  to  many  severe  and 
heavy  trials.  Her  communications  with  him 
were  often  interrupted  and  broken.  She  felt  a 
very  warm  interest  in  the  prosperity  and  suo- 
oeas  of  his  expedition,  and  sometimes  the  tidings 
she  received  fiom  him  encouraged  her  to  hope 
that  all  might  yet  be  well.  Here,  for  inatanoo, 
)a  a  Dot«  which  she  addressed  one  day  to  an  of- 


1041.]  Infancy.  25 

Letter  fron  tiha  queen.  Threata  of  ParUunent 

fioer  who  had  sent  her  a  letter  from  the  king, 
that  had  come  inclosed  to  him.  It  is  written 
in  a  broken  English,  which  shows  how  imper- 
fectly the  foreign  lady  had  learned  the  language 
of  her  adopted  country.  They  who  understand 
the  French  language  will  be  interested  in  ob- 
serving that  most  of  the  errors  which  the  writer 
ffidls  into  are  those  which  result  naturally  from 
the  usages  of  her  mother  tongue. 

Omen  Hmrietta  to  Sir  BJlmmrd  NieksUu. 

"  Maistkk  Nicholas, — I  haye  reaeayed  joar  latter,  and 
Oiat  yon  aend  in«  from  the  king,  which  writes  me  word  he 
u  been  yer6  well  reseayed  in  Scotland ;  that  both  the  arm! 
and  the  people  have  shewed  a  creat  joy  to  see  the  king,  and 
snch  that  theay  say  was  neyer  seen  before.  Pray  God  it  may 
eontinne.     Yonr  frand,  Hirsiitti  Makii  B.' 

At  one  time  daring  the  king's  absence  in 
Scotland  the  Parliament  threatened  to  take  the 
queen's  children  all  away  from  her,  for  fear,  as 
they  said,  that  she  would  make  papists  of  them. 
This  danger  alarmed  and  distressed  the  queen 
exceedingly.  She  declared  that  she  did  not  in- 
tend or  desire  to  bring  up  her  children  in  the 
Catholic  faith.  She  knew  this  was  contrary  to 
the  wish  of  the  king  her  husband,  as  well  as 
•jf  the  people  of  England.  In  order  to  dimin* 
uh  the  danger  that  the  children  would  be  taken 


96  King  Charles  II.  [1641 

ThB  q— ■'■  ilTHML  TTi  I  nililtiiil  iliifii fliiii  ifclliliiM 

away,  she  left  Oatlands  herself,  and  went  to  r<v 
side  at  other  palaces,  only  going  occasionally  to 
visit  her  children.  Though  she  was  thus  ab- 
sent from  them  in  person,  her  heart  was  with 
them  all  the  time,  and  she  was  watching  with 
great  solicitude  and  anxiety  for  any  indications 
of  a  design  on  the  part  of  her  enemies  to  come 
and  take  them  away. 

At  last  she  received  intelligence  that  an 
armed  force  was  ordered  to  assemble  one  night 
in  the  vicinity  of  Oatlands  to  seize  her  children, 
under  the  pretext  that  the  queen  was  herself 
forming  pians  for  removing  them  out  of  the 
country  and  taking  them  to  France.  Henriet- 
ta was  a  lady  of  great  spirit  and  energy,  and 
this  threatened  danger  to  her  children  aroused 
all  her  powers.  She  sent  immediately  to  aU 
the  friends  about  her  on  whom  she  could  rely, 
and  asked  them  to  come,  armed  and  equipped, 
and  with  as  many  followers  as  they  could  mus- 
ter, to  the  park  at  Oatlands  that  night.  There 
were  also  then  in  and  near  London  a  number 
ef  officers  of  the  army,  absent  from  their  posts 
isL  furlough.  She  sent  similar  orders  to  these 
All  obeyed  the  sunmions  with  eager  alacritjr 
The  queen  mustered  and  armed  her  own  house* 
hold,  too,  down  to  the  lowest  se'^^nts  of  the 


1641.J  llfFAMCT.  37 

Th*  qaoan't  ekildmi.  Tkair  imim  tad  aio* 

kitcben.  By  these  means  quite  a  little  army 
was  oollected  in  the  park  at  Oatlands,  the  sep- 
arate parties  ooming  in,  one  after  another,  in 
the  evening  and  night.  This  guard  patrolled 
the  grounds  till  morning,  the  queen  herself  an- 
imating them  by  her  presence  and  energy. 
The  children,  whom  the  excited  mother  was 
thus  guarding,  like  a  lioness  defending  her 
young,  were  all  the  time  within  the  mansion, 
awaiting  in  infantile  terror  some  dreadful  ca- 
lamity, they  scarcely  knew  what,  which  all  this 
esccitement  seemed  to  portend. 

The  names  and  ages  of  the  queen's  children 
at  this  time  were  as  follows : 

Charles,  prince  of  Wales,  the  subject  of  this 
story,  eleven. 

Mary,  ten.  Young  as  she  was,  she  was  al- 
ready married,  having  been  espoused  a  short 
time  before  to  William,  prince  of  Orange,  who 
was  one  year  older  than  hersel£ 

James,  duke  of  York,  seven.  He  became 
tfterward  King  James  II. 

Elizabeth,  six. 

Henry,  an  infant  only  a  few  months  old. 

The  night  passed  away  without  any  attack, 
Jiough  a  considerable  force  assembled  in  the  vi< 
einity,  whica  was,  however,  soon  after  disband- 


28  Kins  CHARLBi  11.  [1641 

PrapantliMu  fbr  Meape.  Tht  klkg's  retimL 

ecL  The  queen's  fears  were,  nevertheless,  not 
allayed.  She  began  to  make  arrangements  for 
esoaping  from  the  kingdom  in  case  it  should 
become  necessary  to  do  so.  She  sent  a  certain 
faithful  friend  and  servant  to  Portsmouth  with 
orders  to  get  some  vessels  ready,  so  that  she 
could  fly  there  with  her  children  and  embark 
at  a  moment's  notice,  if  these  dangers  and 
alarms  should  continue. 

She  did  not,  however,  have  occasion  to  avail 
herself  of  these  preparations.  Affairs  seemed 
to  take  a  more  favorable  turn.  The  kijig  came 
back  from  Scotland.  He  was  received  by  his 
people,  on  his  arrival,  with  apparent  cordiality 
and  good  will.  The  queen  was,  of  course,  re- 
joiced to  welcome  him  home,  and  she  felt  re- 
lieved and  protected  by  his  presence.  The  city 
of  London,  which  had  been  the  main  seat  of 
disaffection  and  hostility  to  the  royal  family, 
began  to  show  symptoms  of  returning  loyalty 
and  friendly  regard.  In  reciprocation  for  this, 
the  king  determined  on  making  a  grand  entry 
into  the  city,  to  pay  a  sort  of  visit  to  the  au- 
thorities.  He  rode,  on  this  occasion,  in  a  splen* 
did  chajiot  of  state,  with  the  little  prince  by  his 
side.  Queen  Henrietta  came  next,  in  an  open 
carriage  of  her  own,  and  the  other  children. 


1041.J  Inpanot.  29 

The  king's  entry  into  London.  Protpeeti  brli^tBa. 

with  other  carriages,  followed  in  the  train.  A 
long  cortege  of  guards  and  attendants,  richly 
dressed  and  magnificently  mounted,  preceded 
and  followed  the  royal  family,  while  the  streets 
were  lined  with  thousands  of  spectators,  who 
waved  handkerchiefs  and  banners,  and  shouted 
God  save  the  king  !  In  the  midst  of  this  scene 
of  excitement  and  triumph,  Henrietta  rode  qui- 
etly along,  her  anxieties  relieved,  her  sorrows 
and  trials  ended,  and  her  heart  bounding  with 
happiness  and  hope.  She  was  once  more,  as 
she  conceived,  reunited  to  her  husband  and  her 
children,  and  reconciled  to  the  people  of  her 
realm.  She  thought  her  troubles  were  over 
Alaa !  they  had,  on  the  contrary,  scarcely  befrtm 


30  KrNo  Chables  II.  [1648 


Chapter  II. 

Prince  Charles's  Mother. 

f flHE  indioations  and  promises  of  returning 
-*•  peace  and  happiness  which  gave  Prince 
Charles's  mother  so  much  animation  and  hope 
after  the  return  of  her  husband  from  Scotland 
were  all  very  superficial  and  fallacious.  The 
real  grounds  of  the  quarrel  between  the  king 
and  his  Parliament,  and  of  the  feelings  of  alien- 
ation and  ill  will  cherished  toward  the  queen. 
were  all,  unfortunately,  as  deep  and  extensive 
as  ever ;  and  the  storm,  which  lulled  treacher- 
ously for  a  little  time,  broke  forth  soon  after- 
ward  anew,  with  a  frightful  violence  which  it 
waa  evident  that  nothing  could  withstand.  Thi« 
new  onset  of  disaster  and  calamity  was  produced 
in  such  a  way  that  Henrietta  had  to  re-^roaoh 
herself  with  being  the  cause  of  its  coming. 

She  had  often  represented  to  the  king  that, 
in  her  opinion,  one  main  cause  of  the  diinonl- 
ties  he  had  suffered  was  that  he  did  not  act  ef- 
fioienliy  and  decidedly,  and  like  a  man,  in  pnt- 
tiag  down  the  opposition  manifested  agauMt 


42.J  Princb  Charlbs^s  Mother.     31 

nm  qaaea'i  advlM.  The  Are  memben. 

him  on  the  part  of  Ms  subjects  ;  and  now,  soon 
after  his  return  from  Scotland,  on  some  new 
spirit  of  disaffection  showing  itself  in  Parlia- 
ment,  she  urged  him  to  act  at  once  energetical- 
ly and  promptly  against  it.  She  proposed  to 
him  to  take  an  armed  force  with  him,  and  pro- 
ceed boldly  to  the  halls  where  the  Parliament 
was  assembled,  emd  arrest  the  leaders  of  the 
party  who  were  opposed  to  him.  There  were 
five  of  them  who  were  specially  prominent. 
The  queen  believed  that  if  these  five  men  were 
seized  and  imprisoned  in  the  Tower,  the  rest 
would  be  intimidated  and  overawed,  and  the 
monarch's  lost  authority  and  power  would  bo 
restored  again. 

The  king  was  persuaded,  partly  by  the  die- 
tates  of  his  own  judgment,  and  partly  by  the 
urgency  of  the  queen,  to  make  the  attempt. 
The  circumstances  of  this  case,  so  far  as  the 
action  of  the  king  was  concerned  in  them,  are 
ftdly  related  in  the  history  of  Charles  the  First. 
Here  we  have  only  to  speak  of  the  queen,  who 
was  left  in  a  state  of  great  suspense  and  anxi- 
ety in  her  palace  at  Whitehall  while  her  hus- 
band was  gone  on  his  dangerous  mission. 

The  plan  of  the  king  to  make  this  irruption 
iato  the  great  legislative  assembly  of  the  na- 


83  Kiife  Charlep  IL  [1642 

The  qaeeo'i  raipiMM.  Lady  CarUale 

tion  had  been  kept,  so  they  supposed,  a  very 
profound  secret,  lest  the  members  ^\hom  he  woe 
going  to  arrest  should  recfcive  warning  of  thoir 
danger  and  fly.  When  the  time  arrived,  the 
king  bade  Henrietta  farewell,  saying  that  she 
might  wait  there  an  hour,  and  if  she  received 
no  ill  news  from  him  during  that  time,  she 
might  be  sure  that  he  had  been  successful,  and 
that  he  was  once  more  master  of  his  kingdom. 
The  queen  remained  in  the  apartment  where 
the  king  had  left  her,  looking  continually  at  the 
watch  which  she  held  before  her,  and  counting 
the  minutes  impatiently  as  the  hands  moved 
slowly  on.  She  had  with  her  one  confidential 
friend,  the  Lady  Carlisle,  who  sat  with  her  and 
seemed  to  share  her  solicitude,  though  she  had 
not  been  intrusted  with  the  secret.  The  time 
passed  on.  No  ill  tidings  came  ;  hnd  at  length 
the  hour  fully  expired,  and  Henrietta,  able  to 
contain  herself  no  longer,  exclaimed  with  exul- 
tation, "  Rejoice  with  me ;  the  hour  is  gone. 
From  this  time  my  husband  is  master  of  his 
realm.  His  enemies  in  Parliament  are  all  ar* 
rested  before  this  time,  and  his  kingcbm  is 
henceforth  his  own." 

It  oertainly  is  possible  for  kings  and  queens 
to  have  faithful  friends,  but  there  are  so  manv 


1642.]  Frimoe  Charles's  Mother.     33 

n*  Uag't  attempt  falk.  Storm  ftf  IndigaaUo^ 

motives  and  inducements  to  falsehood  and 
treachery  in  court,  that  it  is  not  possible,  gener- 
ally, for  them  to  distinguish  false  friends  from 
tme.  The  Lady  Carlisle  was  a  confederate 
with  some  of  the  very  men  whom  Charles  had 
gone  to  arrest.  On  receiving  this  intimation 
of  their  danger,  she  sent  immediately  to  the 
houses  of  Parliament,  which  were  very  near  at 
hand,  and  the  obnoxious  members  received 
warning  in  time  to  fly.  The  hour  had  indeed 
elapsed,  but  the  king  had  met  with  several  un- 
expected delays,  both  in  his  preparations  for 
going,  and  on  his  way  to  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, so  that  when  at  last  he  entered,  the  mem- 
bers were  gone.  His  attempt,  however,  un 
8nco«ssful  as  it  was,  evoked  a  general  storm  of 
indignation  and  anger,  producing  thus  all  the 
exasperation  which  was  to  have  been  expected 
from  the  measure,  without  in  any  degree  ac- 
complishing its  end.  The  poor  queen  was  over- 
whelmed with  confusion  and  dismay  when  she 
learned  the  result.  She  had  urged  her  husband 
forward  to  an  extremely  dangerous  and  desper- 
ate measure,  and  then  by  her  thoughtless  indis- 
cretion had  completely  defeated  the  end.  A 
oniTersal  and  utterly  uncontrollable  excitement 
boist  like  a  clap  of  thunder  upon  th*»  «>"nntrT 
25-3 


34  Kino  Charles  IL  [10421 

TwBvltaou  prooeedinca.  Tk«  q«Mn't  •o«ilmL 

as  this  outrage,  as  they  termed  it,  of  the  king 
became  known,  and  the  queen  was  utterly  ap- 
palled at  the  extent  and  magnitude  of  the  ini»- 
chief  she  had  done. 

The  mischief  was  irremediable.  The  spirit 
of  resentment  and  indignation  which  the  king's 
action  had  aroused,  expressed  itself  in  such  tu- 
multuous and  riotous  proceedings  as  to  render 
the  continuance  of  the  royal  family  in  London 
no  longer  safe.  They  accordingly  removed  up 
the  river  to  Hampton  Court,  a  famous  palace 
on  the  Thames,  not  many  miles  from  the  city 
Here  they  remained  but  a  very  short  time.  The 
dangers  which  beset  them  were  evidently  in- 
creasing. It  was  manifest  that  the  king  must 
either  give  up  what  he  deemed  the  just  rights 
and  prerogatives  of  the  crown,  or  prepare  tt 
maintain  them  by  war.  The  queen  urged  him 
to  choose  the  latter  alternative.  To  raise  the 
means  for  doing  this,  she  proposed  that  she  should 
herself  leave  the  country,  taking  with  her  her 
jewels,  and  such  other  articles  of  great  value 
as  could  be  easily  carried  away,  and  by  means 
of  them  and  her  personal  exertions,  raise  funds 
and  forces  to  aid  her  husband  in  the  approach- 
ing struggle. 

The  king  yielded  to  the  neoeesity  whicb 


1642.]  Prince  Charles's  Mother.     87 

Henrietta  teta  out  for  TloUand.  Derrw. 

seemed  to  compel  the  adDption  of  this  plan.  He 
accordingly  set  off  to  accompany  Henrietta  to 
the  shore.  She  took  with  her  the  young  Prin. 
cess  Mary ;  in  fact,  the  ostensible  object  of  hei 
journey  was  to  convey  her  to  her  young  hus- 
band, the  Prince  of  Orange,  in  Holland.  In 
such  infantile  marriages  as  theirs,  it  is  not  cus- 
tomary, though  the  marriage  ceremony  be  per- 
formed,  for  the  wedded  pair  to  live  together  till 
they  arrive  at  years  a  little  more  mature. 

The  queen  was  to  embark  at  Dover.  Dover 
was  in  those  days  the  great  port  of  egress  from 
England  to  the  Continent.  There  was,  and  is 
still,  a  great  castle  on  the  cliffs  to  guard  the 
harbor  and  the  town.  These  oliiFs  are  pictur- 
esque and  high,  falling  off  abruptly  in  chalky 
precipices  to  the  sea.  Among  them  at  on« 
place  is  a  sort  of  dell,  by  which  there  is  a  grad- 
ual descent  to  the  water.  King  Charles  stood 
upon  the  shore  when  Henrietta  sailed  away, 
watching  the  ship  as  it  receded  from  his  view, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes.  With  all  the  faults, 
oharacte'istic  of  her  nation,  which  Henrietta 
possessed,  she  was  now  his  best  and  truest 
friend,  and  when  she  was  gone  he  felt  that  ho 
was  left  desolate  and  alone  in  the  midst  of  tho 
appalling  dangers  by  which  he  was  environed 


38  KiN«  Charles  II.  [1642 

Prepantioiui  &r  war.  The  queen  in  HoIUbiL 

The  king  went  back  to  Hampton  Court 
Parliament  sent  him  a  request  that  he  would 
come  and  reside  nearer  to  the  capital,  and  en- 
joined upon  him  particularly  not  to  remove  the 
young  Priuoe  of  Wales.  In  the  mean  time 
they  began  to  gather  together  their  forces,  and 
to  prDvide  munitions  of  war.  The  king  did  the 
same.  He  sent  the  young  prince  to  the  west- 
ern part  of  the  kingdom,  and  retired  himself  to 
the  northward,  to  the  city  of  York,  which  he 
made  his  head-quarters.  In  a  word,  both  par- 
ties prepared  for  war. 

In  the  mean  time.  Queen  Henrietta  was  very 
successful  in  her  attempts  to  obtain  aid  for  her 
husband  in  Holland.  Her  misfortunes  awaken- 
ed pity,  with  which,  through  her  beauty,  and 
the  graces  of  her  conversation  and  address,  there 
was  mingled  a  feeling  analogous  to  love.  Then, 
besides,  there  was  something  in  her  spirit  of 
earnest  and  courageous  devotion  to  her  husband 
in  the  hours  of  his  calamity  that  won  for  her  a 
strong  degree  of  admiration  and  respect. 

There  are  no  efi'orts  which  are  so  efficient 
and  powerful  in  the  accomplishment  of  their 
end  as  those  which  a  faithful  wife  makes  to  res- 
eua  and  save  her  husband.  The  heart,  general- 
ij  m  timid,  seems  to  be  inspired  on  such  oooa* 


1643]  Prince   Charles's   MorHSR.     «i9 

BnurletteraiM*  Urge  (unu  of  motley.  The  Uttl«  brUa^ 

Rions  with  a  preternatural  courage,  and  the  arm, 
at  other  times  so  feeble  and  Helpless,  is  nerved 
with  unexpected  strength.  Every  one  is  ready 
to  second  and  help  such  efforts,  and  she  who 
makes  them  is  surprised  at  her  success,  and 
wonders  at  the  extent  and  efficiency  of  the  pow- 
ers which  she  finds  herself  so  unexpectedly  able 
to  wield. 

The  queen  interested  all  classes  in  Holland 
in  her  plans,  and  by  her  personal  credit,  and  the 
security  of  her  diamonds  and  rubies,  she  bor- 
Tjwed  large  sums  of  money  from  the  govern- 
ment, from  the  banks,  and  from  private  mer- 
ehanta.  The  sums  which  she  thus  raised 
amounted  to  two  millions  of  pounds  sterling, 
equal  to  nearly  ten  millions  of  doUars.  While 
these  negotiations  were  going  on  she  remained 
in  Holland,  with  her  little  daughter,  the  bride, 
onder  her  care,  whose  education  she  vras  carry- 
ing forward  aU  the  time  with  the  help  of  suita- 
ble masters ;  for,  though  married,  Mary  was  yet 
a  ohUd.  The  little  husband  was  going  on  at 
the  same  time  with  his  studies  too. 

Henrietta  remained  in  Holland  a  year.  Sho 
expended  a  part  of  her  money  in  purchasing 
cnilitary  stores  and  supplies  for  her  husband, 
and  then  set  sail  with  them,  and  with  the  moo- 


40  Kiifs  Charle*  II  {1643 

Henrtotte  mIIi  for  England.  Terrific  itora^ 

ey  not  expended,  to  join  fhe  king.  The  voy. 
age  was  a  very  extraordinary  one.  A  great 
gale  of  wind  began  to  blow  from  the  northeast 
soon  after  the  ships  left  the  port,  which  inonjas- 
ed  in  violence  for  nine  days,  until  at  lenght  the 
sea  was  lashed  to  such  a  state  of  fury  that  the 
company  lost  all  hope  of  ever  reaching  the  land. 
The  queen  had  with  her  a  large  train  of  attend- 
ants, both  ladies  and  gentlemen;  and  there 
wore  also  in  her  suit  a  number  of  Catholic 
priests,  who  always  accompanied  her  as  the 
chaplains  and  confessors  of  her  household. 
These  persons  had  all  been  extremely  sick,  and 
had  been  tied  into  their  beds  on  account  of  the 
excessive  rolling  of  the  ship,  and  their  own  ex- 
haustion and  helplessness.  The  danger  increas- 
ed, until  at  last  it  became  so  extremely  immi- 
nent that  all  the  self-possession  of  the  passen- 
gers was  entirely  gone.  In  such  protracted 
storms,  the  surges  of  the  sea  strike  the  ship 
with  terrific  force,  and  vast  volumes  of  water 
fall  heavily  upon  the  decks,  threatening  instant 
destruction — ^the  ship  plunging  awfully  after 
the  shock,  as  if  sinking  to  rise  no  more.  At 
such  moments,  the  noble  ladies  who  accompa- 
nied the  queen  on  this  voyage  would  be  over- 
wJiclmed  with  terror,  and  they  fi^'-d  the  cabin* 


1643.]  Prince   Charles's  Mother.     41 

Cowpoanre  of  the  queen.  Terror  of  her  eomputloa* 

with  their  shrieks  of  dismay.  All  this  time 
the  queen  herself  was  quiet  and  composed.  She 
told  the  ladies  not  to  fear,  for  "  queens  of  En- 
gland were  never  drowned." 

At  one  time,  when  the  storm  was  at  its  height, 
the  whole  party  were  entirely  overwhelmed  with 
consternation  and  terror.  Two  of  the  ships 
were  engulfed  and  lost.  The  queen's  company 
thought  that  their  ovra  was  sinking.  They 
came  crowding  into  the  cabin  where  the  priest* 
were  lying,  sick  suid  helpless,  and  began  all  to- 
gether to  confess  their  sins  to  them,  in  the  Cath- 
olic mode,  eager  in  these  their  last  moments,  as 
they  supposed,  to  relieve  their  consciences  in  any 
way  from  the  burdens  of  guilt  which  oppressed 
them.  The  queen  herself  did  not  participate 
in  these  fears.  She  ridiculed  the  absurd  con- 
fessions, and  rebuked  the  senseless  panic  to 
which  the  terrified  penitents  were  yielding; 
and  whenever  any  mitigation  of  the  violence  of 
the  gale  made  it  possible  to  do  any  thing  to  di- 
vert the  minds  of  her  company,  she  tried  to  mak« 
amusement  out  of  the  odd  and  strange  dilem- 
mas in  which  they  were  continually  placed,  and 
the  ludicrous  disasters  and  accidents  which  were 
always  befalling  her  servants  and  officers  of 
state,  in  their  attempts  to  continue  the  etiquette 


42  Kino  Charles  II.  [1643 

Tbn  lUp*  ntara  to  port  Tfa»  qne«i  mO*  sgalxk 

and  ceremony  proper  in  attendance  upon  a 
qneen,  and  from  which  even  the  violence  of  such 
a  storm,  and  the  imminence  of  such  danger, 
oouM  not  excuse  them.  After  a  fortnight  of 
danger,  terror,  and  distress,  the  ships  that  re- 
mained of  the  little  squadron  succeeded  in  get- 
ting back  to  the  port  from  which  they  had  sailed. 
The  queen,  however,  did  not  despair.  After 
a  few  days  of  rest  and  refreshment  she  set  sail 
again,  though  it  was  now  in  the  dead  of  wintejr. 
The  result  of  this  second  attempt  was  a  pros- 
perous voyage,  and  the  little  fleet  arrived  in  due 
time  at  Burlington,  on  the  English  coast,  where 
the  queen  landed  her  money  and  her  stores. 
She  had,  however,  after  all,  a  very  narrow  es- 
cape, for  she  was  very  closely  pursued  on  her 
voyage  by  an  English  squadron.  They  came 
into  port  the  night  after  she  had  landed,  and 
the  next  morning  she  was  awakened  by  the 
crashing  of  cannon  balls  and  the  bursting  of 
bomb-shells  in  the  houses  around  her,  and  found, 
on  hastily  rising,  that  the  village  was  under  a 
bombardment  from  the  ships  of  her  enemies. 
She  hurried  on  some  sort  of  dress,  and  sallied 
forth  with  her  attendants  to  escape  into  the 
fields.  This  incident  is  related  fully  in  the  his- 
tory of  her  husband,  Charles  the  First;  but  ther« 


1643.]  Prince   Charles's  Mutuer.     43 

TbB  ebarf  of  HQm.  Tba  qneem'ahanlma 

is  one  oiioumstanoe,  not  there  detailed,  whiob 
illustrates  very  strikingly  that  strange  combi- 
nation of  mental  greatness  and  energy  worthy 
of  a  queen,  with  a  simplicity  of  affections  and 
tastes  which  we  should  scarcely  expect  in  a 
child,  that  marked  Henrietta's  character.  She 
had  a  small  dog.  Its  name  was  Mike.  They 
say  it  was  an  ugly  little  animal,  too,  in  all  eyes 
but  her  own.  This  dog  accompanied  her  on  the 
voyage,  and  landed  with  her  on  the  English 
shore.  On  the  morning,  however,  when  she 
fled  from  her  bed  to  escape  from  the  balls  and 
bomb-shells  of  the  English  ships,  she  recollect- 
ed, after  getting  a  short  distance  from  the  house, 
that  Mike  was  left  behind.  She  immediately 
returned,  ran  up  to  her  chamber  again,  seized 
Mike,  who  was  sleeping  unconsciously  upon  her 
bed,  and  bore  the  little  pet  away  from  the  scene 
of  ruin  which  the  balls  and  bursting  shells  were 
making,  all  astonished,  no  doubt,  at  so  hurried 
and  violent  an  abduction.  The  party  gained 
the  open  fields,  and  seeking  shelter  in  a  dry 
trench,  which  rem  along  the  margin  of  a  field, 
they  crouched  there  together  till  the  oommand- 
er  of  the  ships  was  tired  of  firing. 

The  queen's  destination  was  York,  the  great 
and  ancient  capital  of  the  north  of  England 


44  Kino  Charles  II  [1643. 

Th«  qm««a't  marck  to  York.  Har  MMitUI  Iwrlwg. 

York  waa  the  head-quarters  of  King  Charlus'a 
army,  though  he  himself  was  not  there  at  thia 
time.  As  soon  as  news  of  the  queen's  arrival 
reached  York,  the  general  in  commEind  there 
ient  down  to  the  coast  a  detachment  of  two 
thousand  men  to  escort  the  heroine,  and  the 
stores  and  money  which  she  had  brought,  to  her 
husband's  capital.  At  the  head  of  this  force 
she  marched  in  triumph  across  the  country, 
with  a  long  train  of  ordnance  and  baggage- wag- 
ms  loaded  with  supplies.  There  were  six  pieces 
of  cannon,  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  wagons 
loaded  with  the  money  which  she  had  obtained 
in  Holland.  The  whole  country  was  excited 
with  enthusiasm  at  the  spectacle.  The  enthu- 
siasm was  increased  by  the  air  and  bearing  of 
the  queen,  who,  proud  and  happy  at  this  suo 
oessful  result  of  all  her  dangers  and  toils,  rode 
on  horseback  at  the  head  of  her  army  like  a  gen- 
eral, spoke  fi-ankly  to  the  soldiers,  sought  no 
shelter  from  the  sun  and  rain,  and  ate  her  meals, 
like  the  rest  of  the  army,  in  a  bivouac  in  the 
open  field.  She  had  been  the  means,  in  some 
degree,  of  leading  the  king  into  his  diihoulties, 
by  the  too  vigorous  measures  she  had  urged 
him  to  take  in  the  case  of  the  attempted  par- 
liamentary arrest     She  seems  to  haro  been  de- 


1643.]  Prince  Charles's  Mcther.     4«S 

Meeting  of  the  king  and  queen.  Their  mutual  affection. 

termined  to  make  that  spirit  of  resolution  and 
energy  in  her,  which  caused  the  mischief  then, 
atone  for  it  by  its  ejfficient  usefuhiess  now.  She 
stopped  on  her  march  to  summon  and  take  a 
town,  which  had  been  hitherto  in  the  hands  of 
her  husband's  enemies,  adding  thus  the  glory 
of  a  conquest  to  the  other  triumphs  of  the  day. 

In  fact,  the  queen's  heart  was  filled  with  pride 
and  pleasure  at  this  conclusion  of  her  enterprise, 
as  is  very  manifest  from  the  frequent  letters 
which  she  wrote  to  her  husband  at  the  time. 
The  king's  cause  revived.  They  gradually  ap- 
proached each  other  in  the  operations  which  they 
severally  conducted,  until  at  last  the  king,  after 
a  great  and  successful  battle,  set  off  at  the  head 
of  a  large  escort  to  come  and  meet  his  wife. 
They  met  in  the  vale  of  Keynton,  near  Edge- 
hill,  which  is  on  the  southern  borders  of  War- 
wickshire, near  the  center  of  the  island.  The 
meeting  was,  of  course,  one  of  the  greatest  ex- 
citement and  pleasure.  Charles  praised  the  high 
corurage  and  faithful  affection  of  his  devoted  wife, 
and  she  was  filled  with  happiness  in  enjoying 
the  love  and  gratitude  of  her  husband. 

The  pressure  of  outward  misfortune  and  ca- 
lamity has  always  the  same  strong  tendency  at 
was  manifest  in  thin  case  to  invigorate  ane'W 


46  KiifQ  CHAJII.E8  IL  [164d. 

Ponaer  disaenslona.  Diapnte  abont  the  appolBtBMAt  of  Umamnn 

&11  the  ties  of  conjugal  and  domestic  affection, 
and  thus  to  create  the  happiness  which  it  seems 
to  the  world  to  destroy.  In  the  early  part  of 
Charles  and  Henrietta's  married  life,  while  ev- 
ery thing  external  went  smoothly  and  prosper- 
ously with  them,  they  were  very  far  from  be- 
ing happy.  They  destroyed  each  other's  peace 
by  petty  disputes  and  jars  about  things  of  lit- 
tle consequence,  in  which  they  each  had  scarce- 
ly any  interest  except  a  desire  to  carry  the  point 
and  triumph  over  the  other.  King  Charles  him- 
self preserved  a  record  of  one  of  these  disputes 
The  queen  had  received,  at  the  time  of  her  mar- 
riage, certain  estates,  consisting  of  houses  and 
lands,  the  income  of  which  was  to  be  at  her  dis- 
posal, and  she  wished  to  appoint  certain  treas- 
urers to  take  charge  of  this  property.  She  had 
made  out  a  list  of  these  officers  in  consultation 
with  her  mother.  She  gave  this  list  to  Charlea 
one  night,  after  he  was  himself  in  bed.  He  said 
he  would  look  at  it  in  the  morning,  but  that  she 
must  remember  that,  by  the  marriage  treaty, 
Ac  was  to  appoint  those  officers.  She  said,  in 
reply,  that  a  part  of  those  whom  she  had  named 
were  English.  The  king  said  that  he  would 
look  at  the  paper  in  the  morning,  and  such  of 
the  English  names  as  he  approved  he  would 


1643.]  Pkince  Charles's  Mothsb.     47 

ThftqueeB  oUttaate.  The  Use  aotleM  ■». 

oonfijm,  but  that  he  could  not  appoint  any 
Frenohmen.  The  queen  answered  that  she  and 
her  mother  had  selected  the  men  whom  she  had 
named,  and  she  would  not  have  any  body  else. 
CJharles  rejoined  that  the  business  was  not  ei- 
Jher  in  her  power  or  her  mother's,  and  if  she 
relied  on  such  an  influence  to  effect  her  wishes, 
He  would  not  appoint  any  body  that  she  recom- 
mended. The  queen  was  very  much  hurt  at 
this,  and  began  to  be  angry.  She  said  that  if 
she  could  not  put  in  whom  she  chose,  to  have 
the  care  of  her  property,  she  would  not  have 
any  such  property.  He  might  take  back  her 
houses  and  landa,  and  allow  her  what  he  pleased 
in  money  in  its  stead.  Charles  replied  by  tell- 
ing her  to  remember  whom  she  was  speaking 
to ;  that  he  could  not  be  treated  in  that  manner ; 
and  then  the  queen,  giving  way  to  lamentations 
and  tears,  said  she  was  wretched  and  miserable ; 
every  thing  that  she  wanted  was  denied  her, 
and  whatever  she  recommended  was  refused 
on  the  very  account  of  her  recommendation. 
Charles  tried  to  speak,  but  she  would  not  hear ; 
she  went  on  with  her  lamentations  and  com- 
plaints, interrupted  only  by  her  own  sobs  of 
passion  and  grief. 

The  reader  may  perhaps  imagine  that  this 


48  KiNe  Charles  II.  [1643 

Frolicking  party  In  the  qneeti'a  apartments.         The  klng'i  dis plearara 

must  have  been  an  extreme  and  unusual  in- 
stance of  dissension  between  this  royal  pair ;  but 
it  was  not.  Cases  of  far  greater  excitement 
and  violence  sometimes  occurred.  The  French 
servants  and  attendants,  whom  the  queen  very 
naturally  preferred,  and  upon  whom  the  king 
was  as  naturally  inclined  to  look  with  suspicion 
and  ill  will,  were  a  continual  source  of  disagree- 
ment between  them.  At  last,  one  afternoon, 
the  king,  happening  to  come  into  that  part  of  the 
palace  at  Whitehall  where  the  queen's  apart- 
ments were  situated,  and  which  was  called  "  the 
queen's  side,"  found  there  a  number  of  her  gen- 
tlemen and  lady  attendants  in  a  great  frolic^ 
capering  and  dancing  in  a  way  which  the  gay 
Frenchmen  probably  considered  nothing  extra- 
'trdinary,  but  which  King  Charles  regarded  as 
very  irreverent  and  unsuitable  conduct  to  be 
witnessed  in  the  presence  of  an  English  queen. 
Ke  was  very  much  lispleased.  He  advanced 
to  Henrietta,  took  her  by  the  arm,  conducted 
her  sternly  to  his  own  side  of  the  palace,  brought 
her  into  one  of  his  own  apartments,  and  locked 
the  door.  He  then  sent  an  officer  to  direct  all 
the  French  servants  and  attendants  in  the 
queen's  apartmeats  to  leave  the  palace  imme- 
diately, and  repair  to  Somerset  Houae,  which 


1643.J  Prince  Charles's  Mother.     49 

Tb*  queen's  •ttendanto  expelled.  Her  ezMpendMii 

was  not  far  distant,  and  remain  there  till  they 
received  further  orders.  The  officer  executed 
these  commands  in  a  very  rough  manner.  The 
French  women  shrieked  and  cried,  and  filled 
the  court-yard  of  the  palace  with  their  clamor ; 
but  the  officer  paid  no  regard  to  this  noise.  He 
turned  them  all  out  of  the  apartments,  and  locked 
the  doors  after  them. 

The  queen  was  rendered  quite  frantic  with 
vexation  and  rage  at  these  proceedings.  She 
flew  to  the  windows  to  see  and  to  bid  farewell 
to  her  friends,  and  to  offer  them  expressions  of 
her  sympathy.  The  king  pulled  her  away,  tell- 
ing her  to  be  quiet  and  submit,  for  he  was  de- 
termined that  they  should  go.  The  queen  waa 
determined  that  she  would  not  submit.  She 
attempted  to  open  the  windows ;  the  king  held 
them  down.  Excited  now  to  a  perfect  phrensy 
in  the  struggle,  she  began  to  break  out  the  panes 
with  her  fist,  while  Charles  exerted  aU  his  force 
to  restrain  and  confine  her,  by  grasping  her 
wrists  and  endeavoring  to  force  her  away. 
What  a  contrast  between  the  lew  and  sordid 
■elfishness  and  jealousy  evinced  in  such  dis- 
tensions as  these,  and  the  lofty  and  heroic  de- 
Totedness  and  fidelity  which  this  wife  afterward 
uvinced  for  her  husband  in  the  harassing  cares, 
23—4 


00  King  Charles  11.  [164^ 

The  ooBtrast  Tbe  queen's  (ptrlt  and  cfavactei 

the  stormy  voyages,  and  the  martial  exposures 
and  fatigues  which  she  endured  for  his  sake ! 
And  yet,  notwithstanding  this  great  apparent 
contrast,  and  the  wide  difference  in  the  estima- 
tion whioh  mankind  form  of  the  conduct  of  the 
actor  in  these  different  scenes,  still  we  can  see 
that  it  is,  after  all,  the  impulse  of  the  same  lofty 
8uid  indomitable  spirit  which  acted  in  both.  The 
soul  itself  of  the  queen  was  not  altered,  nor  even 
the  character  of  her  action.  The  change  was 
in  the  object  and  aim.  In  the  one  case  she  was 
contending  against  the  authority  of  a  husband, 
to  gain  petty  and  aseless  victories  in  domestic 
strife ;  in  the  other,  the  same  spirit  and  energy 
were  expended  in  encountering  the  storms  and 
tempests  of  outward  adversity  to  sustain  her 
husband  and  protect  her  children.  Thus  tho 
change  was  a  change  of  circumstances  rather 
than  of  character. 

The  change  was,  however,  none  the  less  im- 
portant on  that  account  in  its  influence  on  tho 
king.  It  restored  to  him  the  affection  and  sym- 
pathy of  his  wife,  and  filled  his  heart  with  in- 
ward happiness.  It  was  a  joyous  change  to 
him,  though  it  was  produced  by  sufferings  and 
sorrows ;  for  it  was  the  very  pressure  of  out- 
ward calamity  that  made  his  wife  his  friend 


1643,]  Priwce  Chaiix.£8's  Mother.     51 

nt  klBg  marchea  to  Oxford.  B»  mUs  •  Pvctiaaumt 

again,  and  restored  his  domestic  peace.  In  hovr 
many  thousand  instances  is  the  same  effect  pro- 
duced in  a  still  more  striking  manner,  though 
on  a  less  conspicuous  stage,  than  in  the  case  of 
this  royal  pair !  And  how  many  thousands  of 
outwardly  prosperous  families  there  are,  from 
which  domestic  peace  and  happiness  are  gone, 
and  nothing  but  the  pressure  from  without  of 
affliction  or  calamity  can  ever  restore  them ! 

In  consequence,  in  a  great  measure,  of  Hei* 
rietta's  efficient  help,  the  king's  affairs  greatly 
improved,  and,  for  a  time,  it  seemed  a»  if  he 
would  gain  an  ultimate  and  final  victory  over 
ois  enemies,  and  recover  his  lost  dominion.  He 
advanced  to  Oxford,  and  made  his  head-quar- 
ters there,  and  commenced  the  preparations  for 
once  more  getting  possession  of  the  palaces  and 
fortresses  of  London.  He  called  together  a  Par- 
liament at  Oxford ;  some  members  came,  and 
were  regularly  organized  in  the  two  houses  of 
Lords  and  Commons,  while  the  rest  remained 
at  London  and  continued  their  sittings  there 
Thus  tliere  were  two  governments,  two  Parlia- 
ments, and  two  capitals  in  England,  and  the 
whole  realm  was  rent  and  distracted  by  the  re- 
spective claims  of  these  contending  powers  ove? 
the  allegiance  of  the  subjects  and  the  govern 
ment  of  the  reahn. 


53  King  Chaulbb  II.  (1644 

The  elondbi  (hlekm  Defett  of  the  king*!  •mti** 


T 


Chapter  III. 

"v 

Queen   Henrietta's  Flight. 
HE  brightening  of  the  prospects  in  King 


Charles's  alTairs  which  was  produced,  for  a 
time,  by  the  queen's  vigorous  and  energetic  ac- 
tion, proved  to  be  only  a  temporary  gleam  after 
all.  The  clouds  and  darkness  soon  returned 
again,  and  brooded  over  his  horizon  more  gloom- 
ily than  ever.  The  Parliament  raised  and  or- 
ganized new  and  more  powerful  armies.  The 
great  Republican  general,  Oliver  Cromwell,  who 
afterward  became  so  celebrated  as  the  Protect- 
or in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  came  into 
the  field,  and  was  very  successful  in  all  his  mil- 
itary plans.  Other  Republican  generals  appear- 
ed in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  and  fought  with 
great  determination  and  great  success,  driving 
the  armies  of  the  king  before  them  wherever 
they  moved,  and  reducing  town  after  town,  and 
castle  after  castle,  until  it  began  to  appear  evi- 
dent that  the  whole  kingdom  would  soon  fall 
into  their  hands. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  family  of  the  qneeo 


1644.J  QuBBN  Hebtrietta's  Flioht.    63 

The  klnf*!  ehlldrsn.  Prlac*  CharlM, 

were  very  much  separated  from  each  other,  the 
children  having  been  left  in  various  places,  ex- 
posed  each  to  different  privations  and  dcmgers. 
Two  or  three  of  them  were  in  London  in  the 
Dands  of  their  father's  enemies.  Mary,  the 
young  bride  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  was  in 
Holland.  Prince  Charles,  the  oldest  son,  who 
was  now  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  was  at 
the  head  of  one  of  his  father's  armies  in  the 
west  of  England.  Of  course,  such  a  boy  could 
not  be  expected  to  accomplish  any  thing  as  a 
general,  or  even  to  exercise  any  real  military 
command.  He,  however,  had  his  place  at  the 
head  of  a  considerable  force,  and  though  there 
were  generals  with  him  to  conduct  all  the  op- 
erations, and  to  direct  the  soldiery,  they  were 
nominally  the  lieutenants  of  the  prince,  and  act- 
ed, in  all  cases,  in  their  young  commander's 
name.  Their  great  duty  was,  however,  after 
all,  to  take  care  of  their  charge ;  and  the  army 
which  accompanied  Charles  was  thus  rather  an 
esc<)rt  and  a  guard,  to  secure  his  safety,  than  a 
force  from  which  any  aid  was  to  be  expected  in 
the  recovery  of  the  kingdom. 

The  queen  did  every  thing  in  her  power  to 
mistain  the  sinking  fortunes  of  her  husband,  but 
in  vain.     At  length,  in  June,  1644,  she  found 


54  Kino  Charles   11.  [1644 

AdT«nee  of  the  king's  enemiet.  The  queen  retires  to  Exeter 

herself  nnable  to  contiriue  suiy  longer  such  war- 
like and  masculine  exposures  and  toils.  It  be- 
came necessary  for  ner  to  seek  some  place  of 
retreat,  where  she  could  enjoy,  for  a  time  at 
least,  the  quiet  and  repose  now  essential  to  the 
preservation  of  her  life.  Oxford  was  no  longer 
a  place  of  safety.  The  Parliament  had  ordered 
her  impeachment  on  account  of  her  having 
brought  in  arms  and  munitions  of  war  from  for- 
eign  lands,  to  disturb,  as  they  said,  the  peace 
of  the  kingdom.  The  Parliamentary  armies 
were  advancing  toward  Oxford,  and  she  was 
threatened  with  being  shut  up  and  besieged 
there.  She  accordingly  left  Oxford,  and  went 
down  to  the  sea-coast  to  Exeter,  a  strongly-for- 
tified place,  on  a  hUl  surrounded  in  part  by  oth- 
er hills,  and  very  near  the  sea.  There  was  a 
palace  within  the  walls,  where  the  queen  thought 
she  could  enjoy,  for  a  time  at  least,  the  needed 
seclusion  and  repose.  The  king  accompanied 
her  for  a  few  miles  on  her  journey,  to  a  place 
called  Abingdon,  which  is  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Oxford,  and  there  the  unhappy  pair  bade  each 
other  farewell,  with  much  grief  and  many  tears. 
They  never  met  again. 

Henrietta  continued  her  sorrowful  journey 
ak>no.     She  reached  the  sea-coast  in  the  south- 


1644.]  Queen  Henrietta's  Flight.    57 

Tha  qoaen'i  deatitQtioii.  Birth  of  a  davghter. 

weatern  part  of  England,  where  Exeter  is  sit* 
nated,  and  shut  herself  up  in  the  place  of  her 
retreat.  She  was  in  a  state  of  great  destitu- 
tion, for  Charles's  oiroumstances  were  now  so 
reduced  that  he  could  afford  her  very  little  aid. 
She  sent  across  the  Channel  to  her  friends  in 
France,  asking  them  to  help  her.  They  sent 
immediately  the  supplies  that  she  needed — ar- 
ticles of  clothing,  a  considerable  sum  of  money, 
and  a  nurse.  She  retained  the  clothing  and 
the  nurse,  and  a  little  of  the  money ;  the  reel 
she  sent  to  Charles.  She  was,  however,  now 
herself  tolerably  provided  for  in  her  new  home, 
and  here,  a  few  weeks  afterward,  her  sixth  child 
was  born.     It  was  a  daughter. 

The  queen's  long-continued  exertions  and  ex- 
posures had  seriously  impaired  her  health,  and 
she  lay,  feeble  and  low,  in  her  sick  chamber  for 
about  ten  days,  when  she  learned  to  her  dis- 
may that  one  of  the  Parliamentary  generals  wa« 
advancing  at  the  head  of  his  army  to  attack  the 
town  which  she  had  made  her  refuge.  Thi« 
general's  name  was  Essex.  The  queen  sent  a 
messenger  out  to  meet  Essex,  asking  him  to 
allow  her  to  withdraw  from  the  town  before  he 
should  invest  if  with  his  armies.  She  said  that 
•he  was  vary  weak  and  feeble,  and  unabla  to 


58  Kiiro  Charles  II.  [1644 

Hm)  qoMs'i  daager.  Ber  eae»p^ 

endure  the  privations  and  alarms  which  the  in^ 
habitants  of  a  besieged  town  have  necessarily 
tc  bear;  and  she  asked  his  permission,  there- 
fore, to  retire  to  Bristol,  till  her  health  should 
be  restored.  Essex  replied  that  he  could  not 
give  her  permission  to  retire  from  Exeter ;  that, 
in  fact,  the  object  of  his  coming  there  was  to 
escort  her  to  London,  to  bring  her  before  Par- 
liament, to  answer  to  the  charge  of  treason. 

The  queen  perceived  immediately  that  noth- 
ing but  the  most  prompt  and  resolute  action 
could  enable  her  to  escape  the  impending  dan- 
ger. She  had  but  little  bodily  strength  remain- 
ing,  but  that  little  was  stimulated  and  renewed 
by  the  mental  resolution  and  energy  which,  as 
is  usual  in  temperaments  like  hers,  burned  all 
the  brighter  in  proportion  to  the  urgency  of  the 
danger  which  called  it  into  action.  She  rose 
from  her  sick  bed,  and  began  to  concert  meas- 
ures for  making  her  escape.  She  confided  her 
plan  to  three  trusty  friends,  one  gentleman,  one 
lad;y,  and  her  confessor,  who,  as  her  spiritual 
teacher  and  guide,  was  her  constant  companion. 
She  disguised  herself  and  these  her  attendants, 
and  succeeded  in  getting  through  the  gates 
of  Exeter  without  attracting  any  observation. 
ThiB  was  before  Essex  arrived.     She  foondf 


1644.]  QuBEN  Hbnriktta's  FhianT.  59 

Am  qaeca  cooomI*  haraelf  In  •  hat  H«r  raftringa. 

however,  before  she  went  far,  that  the  van  of 
the  army  was  approaching,  and  she  had  to  seek 
refage  in  a  hut  till  her  enemies  had  passed.  She 
oonoealed  herself  among  some  straw,  her  attend- 
ants seeking  such  other  hiding-places  as  were 
at  hand.  It  was  two  days  before  the  bodies  of 
soldiery  had  all  passed  so  as  to  make  it  safe  for 
the  queen  to  come  out  of  her  retreat.  The  hut 
would  seem  to  have  been  uninhabited,  as  the 
accounts  state  that  she  remained  all  this  time 
without  food,  though  this  seems  to  be  an  almost 
incredible  degree  of  privation  and  exposure  for 
an  English  queen.  At  any  rate,  she  remained 
during  all  this  time  in  a  state  of  great  mental 
anxiety  and  alarm,  for  there  were  parties  of  sol- 
diery constantly  going  by,  with  a  tumult  and 
noise  which  kept  her  in  continual  terror.  Their 
harsh  and  dissonant  voices,  heard  sometimes  in 
angry  quarrels  and  sometimes  in  mirth,  were 
always  frightful.  In  fact,  for  a  helpless  worn 
an  in  a  situation  like  that  of  the  queen,  the 
mood  of  reckless  and  brutal  mirth  in  such  sav- 
ages  was  perhaps  more  to  be  dreaded  than  that 
of  their  anger. 

At  one  time  the  queen  overheard  a  party  of 
these  soldiers  talking  about  her.  They  knew 
that  to  get  possession  of  the  papist  queen  was 


60  Kino  Charles  11.  [1644 

The  qii«en  Imtm  her  ooncealment  Iler  exhaotted  osnditloik 

the  object  of  their  expedition.  They  spoke  of 
getting  her  head  and  carrying  it  tc  London,  say 
ing  that  Parliament  had  offered  a  reward  of  fifty 
thousand  crowns  for  it,  and  expressed  the  sav- 
i^e  pleasure  which  it  would  give  them  to  se 
cure  this  prize,  by  imprecations  and  oaths. 

They  did  not,  however,  discover  their  intend- 
ed victim.  After  the  whole  army  passed,  the 
queen  ventured  cautiously  forth  from  her  re- 
treat ;  the  little  party  got  together  again,  and, 
still  retaining  their  disguises,  moved  on  over 
the  road  by  which  the  soldiers  had  come,  and 
which  was  in  the  shocking  condition  that  a  roau 
and  a  country  always  exhibit  where  an  army 
has  been  marching.  Faint  and  exhausted  with 
giokness,  abstinence,  and  the  effects  of  long-con- 
tinned  anxiety  and  fear,  the  queen  had  scarce- 
ly strength  to  go  on.  She  persevered,  however, 
and  at  length  found  a  second  refuge  in  a  cabin 
in  a  wood.  She  was  going  to  Plymouth,  which 
is  forty  or  fifty  miles  from  Exeter,  to  the  Bouth- 
west,  and  is  the  great  port  and  naval  station 
:f  the  English,  in  that  quarter  of  the  island. 

She  stopped  at  this  cabin  for  a  little  time  to 
rest,  and  to  wait  for  some  other  friends  and  mem- 
bers of  her  household  from  the  palace  in  Exeter 
to  join  her.     Those  friends  were  to  wait  until 


1644.]  Queen  Henrietta's  Flight.  61 

rhfl  dwarf  Geoffrey  Hadion.  Change  of  taitii 

they  found  that  the  queen  succeeded  in  making 
her  escape,  and  then  they  were  to  follow,  each  in 
a  different  way,  and  all  assuming  such  disguises 
as  would  most  effectually  help  to  conceal  them. 
There  was  one  of  the  party  whom  it  must  have 
been  somewhat  difficult  to  disguise.  It  weis  a 
dwarf,  named  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who  had  been 
a  long  time  in  the  service  of  Henrietta  as  a  per- 
sonal attendant  and  messenger.  It  was  the 
fancy  of  queens  and  princesses  in  those  days  to 
have  such  personages  in  their  train.  The  oddi- 
ty of  the  idea  pleased  them,  and  the  smaller  the 
dimensions  of  such  a  servitor,  the  greater  was 
nis  value.  In  modern  times  aU  this  is  changed- 
Tall  footmen  now,  in  the  families  of  the  great, 
receive  salaries  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
inches  in  their  stature,  and  the  dwarfs  go  to  the 
museums,  to  be  exhibited,  for  a  price,  to  the  com- 
mon wonder  of  mankind. 

The  manner  in  which  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson 
was  introduced  into  the  service  of  the  queen 
was  as  odd  as  his  figure.  It  was  just  after  she 
was  married,  and  when  she  was  about  eight- 
een years  old.  She  had  two  dwarfs  then  al- 
ready, a  gentleman  and  a  lady,  or,  as  they  term- 
ed it  then,  a  cavalier  and  a  dam€y  and,  to  carry 
oat  the  whimsioal  idea,  she  had  arranged  a 


63  KiNe  Charles  IL  [1644 


Hl»  nuiuiar  of  introdoeing  the  dwarf  to  tbs  qu 


match  between  these  two,  and  had  them  mar* 
tied.  Now  there  was  in  her  court  at  that  tim« 
A  wild  and  thoughtless  nobleman,  a  great  friend 
and  constant  companion  of  her  husband  Charles 
the  First,  named  Buckingham.  An  account 
of  his  various  exploits  is  given  in  our  history  of 
Charles  the  First.  Buckingham  happened  tt) 
hear  of  this  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who  was  then  a 
boy  of  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  living  with 
his  parents  somewhere  in  the  interior  of  En- 
gland. He  sent  for  him,  and  had  him  brought 
seoietly  to  his  house,  and  made  an  arrangement 
to  have  him  enter  the  service  of  the  queen,  with- 
out, however,  saying  any  thing  of  his  design  to 
her.  He  then  invited  the  queen  and  her  hus- 
band to  visit  him  at  his  palace ;  and  when  the 
time  for  luncheon  arrived,  one  day,  he  conduct- 
ed the  party  into  the  dining  saloon  to  partake 
of  some  refreshment.  There  was  upon  the  ta- 
ble, among  other  viands,  what  appeared  to  be  a 
large  venison  pie.  The  company  gathered 
around  the  table,  and  a  servant  proceeded  to 
eat  the  pie,  and  on  his  breaking  and  raising  a 
piece  of  the  crust,  out  stepped  the  young  dwarf 
open  the  table,  splendidly  dressed  and  armed, 
and,  advancing  toward  the  queen,  he  kneeled 
V  fcre  her,  and  begged  to  be  received  into  h«^ 


1644.]  Q,ufiEN  Henrietta's  Flioht.  69 

Hadnn'f  radden  and  remarkable  growth.  TBm  ebBraetar 

train.  Her  majesty  was  very  mnoh  pleased 
with  the  addition  itself  thus  made  to  her  house- 
hold, as  well  as  diverted  by  the  odd  manner  ir 
which  her  new  attendant  was  introduced  into 
her  service. 

The  youthful  dwarf  was  then  only  eighteen 
inches  high,  and  he  continued  so  until  he  was 
thirty  years  of  age,  when,  to  every  body's  sur- 
prise, he  began  to  grow.  He  grew  quite  rap- 
idly, and,  for  a  time,  there  was  a  prospect  that 
he  would  be  entirely  spoiled,  as  his  whole  val- 
ue had  consisted  thus  far  in  his  littleness.  He 
attained  the  height  of  three  feet  and  a  half,  and 
there  the  mysterious  principle  of  organic  ex- 
pansion, the  most  mysterious  and  inexplicable, 
perhaps,  that  is  exhibited  in  all  the  phenomena 
of  life,  seemed  to  be  finally  exhausted,  and, 
though  he  lived  to  be  nearly  seventy  years  of 
age,  he  grew  no  more. 

Notwithstanding  the  bodily  infirmity,  what- 
ever it  may  have  been,  which  prevented  his 
growth,  the  dwarf  possessed  a  considerable  de- 
gree of  mental  capacity  and  courage.  He  did 
not  bear,  however,  very  good-naturedly,  the  jests 
and  gibes  of  which  he  was  the  continual  object, 
from  the  unfeeling  courtiers,  who  often  took 
pleasure  in  teasing  him  and  in  getting  him  into 


64  KI^G  Charles  II.  [1644 

Hndjott'i  dnel  wtt  Crafts  The  dwarf  kill*  hU  8nta(oiilji 

all  sorts  of  absurd  and  ridiculous  situations. 
At  last  his  patience  was  entirely  exhausted,  and 
he  challenged  one  of  his  tormentors,  whose  name 
was  Crofts,  to  a  duel.  Crofts  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge, and,  being  determined  to  persevere  in  his 
fun  to  the  end,  appeared  on  tha  battle-ground 
armed  only  with  a  squirt.  This  raised  a  laugh, 
of  course,  but  it  did  not  tend  much  to  cool  tha 
injured  Lilliputian's  anger.  He  sternly  insist- 
ed on  another  meeting,  and  with  real  weapons. 
Crofts  had  expected  to  have  turned  off  the  whole 
affair  in  a  joke,  but  he  found  this  could  not  be 
done ;  and  public  opinion  among  the  courtiers 
around  him  compelled  him  finally  to  accept  the 
chaUenge  in  earnest.  The  parties  met  on  horse- 
back, to  put  them  more  nearly  on  an  equality 
They  fought  with  pistols.  Crofts  was  killed 
upon  the  spot. 

After  this  Hudson  was  treated  with  more  re- 
spect. He  was  intrusted  by  the  queen  with 
many  commissions,  and  sometimes  business 
was  committed  to  him  which  required  no  little 
capacity,  judgment,  and  courage.  He  was  now, 
at  the  time  of  the  queen's  escape  from  Exeter, 
of  his  full  stature,  but  as  this  was  only  three 
and  a  half  feet,  he  encountered  great  danger  in 
attempting  to  find  his  way  out  of  the  city  and 


1644.]  QuEBM  Heijrirtta's  Flight.  65 

HndKin  effeoti  Ui  Mcape  Jonrney  to  Plymcmth. 

through  the  advancing  columns  of  the  army  to 
rejoin  the  queen.  He  persevered,  however,  and 
reached  her  safely  at  last  in  the  cabin  in  the 
wood.  The  babe,  not  yet  two  weeks  old,  was 
necessarily  left  behind.  She  was  left  in  charge 
of  Lady  Morton,  whom  the  queen  appointed  her 
governess.  Lady  Morton  was  young  and  beau- 
tifdl.  She  was  possessed  of  great  strength  and 
energy  of  character,  and  she  devoted  herself 
with  her  whole  soul  to  preserving  the  life  and 
securing  the  safety  of  her  little  charge. 

The  queen  and  her  party  had  to  traverse  a 
wild  and  desolate  forest,  many  miles  in  extent, 
on  the  way  to  Plymouth.  The  name  of  it  was 
Dartmoor  Forest.  Lonely  a»  it  was,  however, 
the  party  was  safer  in  it  than  in  the  open  and 
inhabited  country,  which  was  all  disturbed  and 
in  commotion,  as  every  country  necessarily  is 
in  time  of  civil  war.  As  the  queen  drew  near 
to  Plymouth,  she  found  that,  for  some  reason, 
it  would  not  be  safe  to  enter  that  town,  and  m 
the  whole  party  went  on,  continuing  their  jour 
nay  farther  to  the  westward  still. 

Now  there  is  one  important  sea-port  to  the 
westward  of  Plymouth  which  is  called  Fal. 
mouth,  and  near  it,  on  a  high  promontory  jut- 
tim^  into  the  ana,  is  a  iarsre  and  strong  castle. 

23—5 


6«  Kins  Charles  U.  1644 

HeniiettB  arrlTea  at  FendennU  Caitle.    Ske  determinei  to  ^o  to  Flteie* 

called  Pendennis  Castle.  This  oastle  was,  at 
the  time  of  the  queen's  esoape,  in  the  hands  of 
the  king's  friends,  and  she  determined,  acoord< 
ingly,  to  seek  refuge  there.  The  whole  party 
arrived  here  safely  on  the  29th  of  June.  They 
were  all  completely  worn  out  and  exhausted  by 
the  fatigues,  privations,  and  exposures  of  their 
terrible  journey. 

The  queen  had  determined  to  make  hw  es- 
oape as  soon  as  possible  to  France.  She  oouid 
no  longer  be  of  any  service  to  the  king  in  En- 
gland ;  her  resources  were  exhausted,  and  her 
personal  health  was  so  feeble  that  she  must  have 
been  a  burden  to  his  cause,  and  not  a  help,  if 
she  had  remained.  There  was  a  ship  from  Hol- 
land in  the  harbor.  The  Prince  of  Orange,  it 
will  be  recollected,  who  had  married  the  queen's 
oldest  daughter,  was  a  prince  of  Holland,  and 
th  b  vessel  was  under  his  direction.  Some  writ- 
ers say  it  was  sent  to  Falmouth  by  him  to  be 
ready  for  his  mother-in-law,  in  case  she  should 
wish  to  make  her  esoape  from  England.  Oth- 
ers speak  of  it  as  being  there  accidentally  at 
this  time.  However  this  may  be,  it  wa»  im- 
mediately placed  at  Queen  Henrietta's  disposal, 
and  she  determined  to  embark  in  it  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning.     She  knew  very  weU  that,  at 


1644.]  Queen  Henrijetta's  Flight.  67 

n«  q«een  embarkj  for  Prance.  Sha  Im  fwrwaad. 

soon  as  Essex  should  have  heard  of  her  escape, 
parties  would  be  scouring  the  country  in  all  di- 
rections in  pursuit  of  her,  and  that,  although 
the  oastle  where  she  had  found  a  temporary 
refuge  was  strong,  it  was  not  best  to  incur  the 
risk  of  being  shut  up  and  besieged  in  it. 

She  accordingly  embarked,  with  aU  her  com- 
pany, on  board  the  Dutch  ship  on  the  very  morn- 
ing after  her  arrival,  and  immediately  put  to 
sea.  They  made  all  sail  for  the  coast  of  France, 
intending  to  land  at  Dieppe.  Dieppe  is  almost 
precisely  east  of  Falmouth,  two  or  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  it,  up  the  English  ChanneL 
As  it  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel,  it 
would  lie  to  the  south  of  Falmouth,  were  it  not 
that  both  the  French  and  English  coasts  trend 
Here  to  the  northward. 

Some  time  before  they  arrived  at  their  port, 
they  perceived  some  ships  in  the  offing  that 
leemed  to  be  pursuing  them.  They  endeavor- 
ed to  escape,  but  their  pursuers  gained  rapidly 
apon  them,  and  at  length  fired  a  gun  as  a  sig- 
nal for  the  queen's  vessel  to  stop.  The  ball 
oame  bounding  over  the  water  toward  them,  but 
did  no  harm.  Of  course  there  was  a  scene  of 
oniTersal  commotion  and  panic  on  board  the 
queen's  ship.     Some  wanted  to  fire  back  upon 


68  Kino  Charlhs  IL  [1644 

Henrletta't  ooonge  and  self-poitoMloii.  Her  Initmotioiu 

the  pursuers,  some  wished  to  stop  and  surrender, 
and  others  shrieked  and  cried,  and  were  over- 
whelmed with  uncontrollable  emotions  of  terror. 
In  the  midst  of  this  dreadful  scene  of  confu- 
sion, the  queen,  as  was  usual  with  her  in  such 
emergencies,  retained  all  her  self-possession,  and 
though  weak  and  helpless  before,  felt  a  fresh 
strength  and  energy  now,  which  the  imminence 
itself  of  the  danger  seemed  to  inspire.  She  wm 
excited,  it  is  true,  as  well  as  the  rest,  but  it 
was,  in  her  case,  the  excitement  of  courage  and 
resolution,  and  not  of  senseless  terror  and  de- 
spair. She  ascended  to  the  deck ;  she  took  the 
direct  command  of  the  ship ;  she  gave  instruc- 
tions to  the  pilot  how  to  steer;  and,  though 
there  was  a  storm  coming  on,  she  ordered  every 
sail  to  be  set,  that  the  ship  might  be  driven  as 
rapidly  as  possible  through  the  water.  She  for- 
bade the  captain  to  fire  back  upon  their  pursu- 
ers, fearing  that  such  firing  would  occasion  de- 
lay ;  and  she  gave  distinct  and  positive  orders 
to  the  captain,  that  so  soon  as  it  should  appear 
that  all  hope  of  jscape  was  gone,  and  that  they 
must  inevitably  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  en- 
emies,  he  was  to  set  fire  to  the  magazine  of 
gunpowder,  in  order  that  they  might  all  b©  de- 
•troyed  bv  the  explosion. 


1644.]  QuEBN  Henrietta's  Flight.  69 

HopM  uui  faan.  The  quaen'i  periloos  iltaatloii. 

In  the  mean  time  all  the  ships,  pursuers  and 
pursued,  were  rapidly  nearing  the  French  coajst 
The  fugitives  were  hoping  to  reach  their  port. 
They  were  also  hoping  every  moment  to  see 
some  friendly  French  ships  appear  in  sight  to 
rescue  them.  To  balance  this  double  hope, 
there  was  a  double  fear.  There  were  their  pur- 
suers behind  them,  whose  shots  were  continu- 
ally booming  over  the  water,  threatening  them 
with  destruction,  and  there  was  a  storm  aris- 
ing which,  with  the  great  press  of  sail  that  they 
were  carrying,  brought  with  it  a  danger,  per- 
haps, more  imminent  still. 

It  happened  that  these  hopes  and  fears  were 
all  realized,  and  nearly  at  the  same  time.  A 
shot  struck  the  ship,  producing  a  great  shock, 
and  throwing  all  on  board  into  terrible  conster- 
nation. It  damaged  the  rigging,  bringing  down 
the  rent  sails  and  broken  cordage  to  the  deck, 
and  thus  stopped  the  vessel's  way.  At  the 
same  moment  some  French  vessels  came  in 
sight,  and,  as  soon  as  they  understood  the  case, 
bore  down  full  sail  to  rescue  the  disabled  ves 
eel.  The  pursuers,  changing  suddenly  their 
pursuit  to  flight,  altered  their  course  and  moved 
slowly  away.  The  storm,  however,  inoreajied, 
ind,  preventing  them  from  making  the  harbor 


70  Kiii«  Chaklbs  II.  [1644 

The  qneen  lamd*  In  France.  Her  exhanated  condlttoi 

of  Dieppe,  drove  them  along  the  shore,  threat* 
ening  every  moment  to  dash  them  upon  tb" 
rocks  and  breakers.  At  length  the  queen's  ves- 
sel succeeded  in  getting  into  a  rocky  cove, 
^here  they  were  sheltered  from  the  winds  and 
waves,  and  found  a  chance  to  land.  The  queen 
ordered  out  the  boat,  and  was  set  ashore  with 
her  attendants  on  the  rocks.  She  climbed  over 
them,  wet  as  they  were  with  the  dashing  spray, 
and  slippery  with  sea-weed.  The  little  party, 
drenched  with  the  rain,  and  exhausted  and  for- 
lorn, wandered  along  the  shore  till  they  came 
to  a  little  village  of  fishermen's  huts.  The 
queen  went  into  the  first  wretched  cabin  which 
offered  itself,  and  lay  down  upon  the  straw  ia 
the  corner  for  rest  and  sleep. 

The  tidings  immediately  spread  all  over  the 
region  that  the  Queen  of  England  had  landed 
on  the  coast,  and  produced,  of  course,  universal 
excitement.  The  gentry  in  the  neighborhood 
flocked  down  the  next  morning,  in  their  car- 
riages, to  offer  Henrietta  their  aid.  They  sup- 
plied her  wants,  invited  her  to  their  houses,  and 
offered  her  their  equipages  to  take  her  wher- 
ever she  should  decide  to  go.  What  she  want- 
ed was  seclusion  and  rest.  They  accordingly 
conveyed  her,  at  her  request,  to  the  Baths  of 


1644.]  Queen  Henrietta's  Flight.  71 

Hm  qneeu  arriyes  «t  PariB.  Her  deep  soitow 

Bourbon,  where  she  remained  some  time,  until, 
in  fact,  her  health  and  strength  were  in  soma 
measure  restored.  Great  personages  of  state 
were  sent  to  her  here  from  Paris,  with  money 
and  aU  other  necessary  supplies,  and  in  due 
time  she  was  escorted  in  state  to  the  city,  and 
established  in  great  magnificence  and  splendor 
in  the  Louvre,  which  was  then  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal palaces  of  the  capital. 

Notwithstanding  the  outward  change  which 
was  thus  made  in  the  circumstances  of  the  ex- 
iled queen,  she  was  very  unhappy.  As  the  ex- 
citement of  ner  danger  and  her  efforts  to  escape 
it  passed  away,  her  spirits  sunk,  her  beauty 
faded,  and  her  countenance  assumed  the  wan 
and  haggard  expression  of  despair.  She  mourn- 
ed over  the  ruin  of  her  husband's  hopes,  and  her 
separation  from  him  and  from  her  children,  with 
perpetual  tears.  She  called  to  mind  continual- 
ly the  image  of  the  little  babe,  not  yet  three 
ireeks  old,  whom  she  had  left  so  defenseless  in 
the  very  midst  of  her  enemies.  She  longed  to 
get  some  tidings  of  the  child,  and  reproached 
herself  sometimes  for  having  thus,  as  it  were, 
abandoned  her. 

The  localities  which  were  the  scenes  of  these 
events  have  been  made  very  fkmons  by  them, 


72  King  Charles  IL  [1644 

iBtareatlng  localltiea.  Th«  qnaea'a  portnH 

and  traditionary  tales  of  Qaeen  Henrietta's  res- 
idence in  Exeter,  and  of  her  romantic  escape 
from  it,  have  been  handed  down  there,  from 
generation  to  generation,  to  the  present  day. 
They  caused  her  portrait  to  be  painted  too,  and 
hung  it  up  in  the  city  hall  of  Exeter  as  a  me- 
morial of  their  royal  visitor.  The  palace  where 
the  little  infant  was  born  has  long  since  passed 
away,  but  the  portrait  hangs  in  the  Guildhall 
itill 


1644.]  Escape  of   the  Childrbi*.         75 


fleuMta'i  mtMpfj  ■ItMtlo*.  Th*  «kUdr« 


Ghaptbe  IV. 

Escape  op  the  Children. 

"ITSTE  left  the  mother  of  Prince  Charles,  at 
^  "  the  close  of  the  last  chapter,  in  the  pal- 
ace of  the  Louvre  in  Paris.  Though  all  her 
wants  were  now  supplied,  and  though  she  lived 
in  royal  state  in  a  magnificent  palace  on  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  still  she  was  disconsolate 
and  unhappy.  She  had,  indeed,  succeeded  in 
effecting  her  own  escape  from  the  terrible  dan- 
gers which  had  threatened  her  family  in  En- 
gland, but  she  had  left  her  husband  and  chil- 
dren behind,  and  she  could  not  really  enjoy  her- 
self the  shelter  which  she  had  found  from  the 
stOTm,  as  long  as  those  whom  she  so  twdently 
loved  were  still  out,  exposed  to  all  its  fury.  She 
had  six  children.  Prince  Charles,  the  oldest, 
wax  in  the  western  part  of  England,  in  camp, 
acting  nominally  as  the  commander  of  an  army, 
and  fighting  for  his  father^  throne.  He  wiut 
Dfiw  fourteen  years  of  age.  Next  to  him  wa* 
Mary,  the  wife  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  who 
was  safe  in  Holland.     She  was  one  year  young 


76  Kino  Charles  II.  [1644 

James  a  prisoner.  Elizabeth  and  Henry. 

er  than  Charles.  James,  the  third  child,  whose 
title  was  now  Duke  of  York,  was  about  ton. 
He  had  been  left  in  Oxford  when  that  city  was 
■urrendered,  and  had  been  taken  captive  there 
by  the  Republican  army.  The  general  in  oom- 
mand  sent  him  to  London  a  prisoner.  It  was 
hard  for  such  a  child  to  be  a  captive,  but  then 
there  was  one  solace  in  his  lot.  By  being  sent 
to  London  he  rejoined  his  little  sister  Elizabeth 
and  his  brother  Henry,  who  had  remained  there 
all  the  time.  Henry  was  three  years  old  and 
Elizabeth  was  six.  These  children,  being  too 
young,  as  was  supposed,  to  attempt  an  escape, 
were  not  very  closely  confined.  They  were  in- 
trusted to  the  charge  of  some  of  the  nobility, 
and  lived  in  one  of  the  London  palaces.  Jamea 
was  a  very  thoughtful  and  considerate  boy,  and 
had  been  enough  with  his  father  in  his  cam- 
paigns to  understand  something  of  the  terrible 
dangers  with  which  the  family  were  surround- 
ed. The  other  children  were  too  young  to 
know  or  care  about  them,  and  played  blind- 
man's  buff  and  hide  and  go  seek  in  the  great 
saloons  of  the  palace  with  as  much  infanti!? 
glee  as  if  their  father  and  mother  were  as  safe 
and  happy  as  ever. 

Though  they  felt  thus  no  uneasiness  and 


1645.J  Escape  op  the   Childrek.        77 

The  Infant  Henrietta*!  tow 

wixiety  for  themselves,  their  exiled  mother 
mourned  for  them,  and  was  oppressed  by  the 
most  foreboding  fears  for  their  personal  safety. 
She  thought,  however,  still  more  frequently  of 
the  babe,  and  felt  a  still  greater  solicitude  for 
her,  left  as  she  had  been,  at  so  exceedingly  ten- 
der an  age,  in  a  situation  of  the  most  extreme 
and  imminent  danger.  She  felt  somewhat 
guilty  in  having  yielded  her  reluctant  consent, 
for  political  reasons,  to  have  her  other  children 
educated  in  what  she  believed  a  false  system 
of  religious  faith,  and  she  now  prayed  earnestly 
to  God  to  spare  the  life  of  this  her  last  and  dear- 
est child,  and  vowed  in  her  anguish  that,  if  the 
babe  were  ever  restored  to  her,  she  would  break 
through  aU  restrictions,  and  bring  her  up  a  true 
believer.  This  vr>w  she  afterward  earnestly 
fulfiUed. 

The  child,  it  will  be  recollected,  was  left, 
when  Henrietta  escaped  from  Exeter,  in  th© 
care  of  the  Countess  of  Morton,  a  young  and 
beautiful,  and  also  a  very  intelligent  and  ener- 
getic lady.  The  child  had  a  visit  from  its  fa- 
ther soon  after  its  mother  left  it.  King  Charles, 
as  soon  as  he  heard  that  Essex  was  advancing 
to  besiege  Exeter,  where  he  knew  that  the  queea 
had  sought  refuge,  and  was,  of  oourse,  exposed 


78  Kino  Charles  11.  [164^ 

111*  Unf  ttd  hla  Uttle  danghtcr.  L»iy  MortoM, 

to  fall  into  his  power,  hastened  with  an  army 
to  her  rescue.  He  arrived  in  time  to  prevent 
fissex  from  getting  possession  of  the  place.  lie, 
in  fact,  drove  the  besieger  away  from  the  town, 
and  entered  it  himself  in  triumph.  The  queen 
was  gone,  but  he  found  the  child. 

The  king  gazed  upon  the  little  stranger  with 
a  mixture  of  joy  and  sorrow.  He  caused  it  to 
be  baptized,  and  named  it  Henrietta  Anne.  Th© 
aame  Henrietta  was  from  the  mother;  Anne 
was  the  name  of  Henrietta's  sister-in-law  in 
Paris,  who  had  been  very  kind  to  her  in  all  her 
troubles.  The  king  made  ample  arrangements 
for  supplying  Lady  Morton  with  money  out  of 
the  revenues  of  the  town  of  Exeter,  and,  think- 
ing that  the  ohUd  would  be  as  safe  in  Exeter 
as  any  where,  left  her  there,  and  went  away  to 
resume  again  his  desperate  conflicts  with  hia 
political  foes. 

Lady  Morton  remained  for  some  time  at  Ex- 
eter, but  the  king's  cause  every  where  declined. 
His  armies  were  conquered,  hia  towns  were 
taken,  and  he  was  compelled  at  last  to  give 
himsalf  up  a  prisoner.  Exeter ^^  as  well  as  all 
the  other  strongholds  in  the  kingdom,  fell  into 
the  bands  of  the  parliamentary  armies.  They 
atnt  Lady  Morton  and  the  little  Henrietta  to 


1646.]    ESCAFE    OP    THE    CHILDREN.  79 

Vaij  M  oftOK's  plan  of  ^acufe.  The  dUfiiw. 

London,  and  soon  afterward  provided  them  with 
a  home  in  the  mansion  at  Oatlands,  where  the 
queen  herself  and  her  other  children  had  liyed 
before.  It  was  a  quiet  and  safe  retreat,  but 
Lady  Morton  was  very  little  satisfied  with  the 
plan  of  remaining  there.  She  wished  vary  much 
to  get  the  babe  back  to  its  mother  again  in  Paris. 
She  heard,  at  length,  of  rumors  that  a  plan  was 
forming  by  the  Parliament  to  take  the  child  out 
of  her  charge,  and  she  then  resolved  to  attempt 
an  escape  at  all  hazards. 

Henrietta  Anne  was  now  two  years  old,  and 
was  beginning  to  talk  a  little.  When  asked 
what  was  her  name,  they  had  taught  her  to  at- 
tempt to  reply  princess^  though  she  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  uttering  more  than  the  first  letters  of 
the  word,  her  answer  being,  in  fact,  prah.  Lady 
Morton  conceived  the  idea  of  making  her  escape 
across  the  country  in  the  disguise  of  a  beggar 
woman,  changing,  at  the  same  time,  the  prim* 
cess  into  a  boy.  She  was  herself  very  tall,  and 
graoefiil,  and  beautiful,  and  it  was  hard  for  hm 
to  make  herself  look  old  and  ugly.  She,  how- 
ever, made  a  hump  for  her  back  out  of  a  bun* 
die  of  linen,  and  stooped  in  her  gait  to  counter- 
feit age.  She  dressed  herself  in  soiled  and  rag- 
ged clothes,  disfigured  her  faee  by  reveraing  the 


80  Kino  Charles  II.  [1646 

DlagvlM  of  th«  little  prlncesa.  Her  pnttiing 

oontrivances  with  which  ladies  in  very  fashion- 
able life  are  said  sometimes  to  produce  artificial 
youth  and  beauty,  and  with  the  child  in  a  bundle 
m  her  back,  and  a  staff  in  her  hand,  she  watched 
a  favorable  opportunity  to  escape  stealthily  from 
the  palace,  in  the  forlorn  hope  of  walking  in  that 
way  undetected  to  Dover,  a  march  of  fifty  miles, 
through  a  country  filled  with  enemies. 

Little  Henrietta  was  to  be  a  boy,  and  as  people 
on  the  way  might  ask  the  child  its  name.  Lady 
Morton  weis  obliged  to  select  one  for  her  which 
would  fit,  in  some  degree,  her  usual  reply  to 
such  a  question.  She  chose  the  name  Pierre, 
which  sounds,  at  least,  as  much  like  prah  as 
princess  does.  The  poor  child,  though  not  old 
enough  to  speak  distinctly,  was  still  old  enough 
to  talk  a  great  deal.  She  was  very  indignant 
at  the  vile  dress  which  she  was  compelled  to 
wear,  and  at  being  called  a  beggar  boy.  She 
persisted  in  telling  every  body  whom  she  met 
that  she  was  not  a  boy,  nor  a  beggar,  nor  Pierre, 
but  the  princess^  saying  it  all,  however,  very 
fortunately,  in  such  an  unintelligible  way,  that 
it  only  alarmed  Lady  Morton,  without,  howev- 
er, attracting  the  attention  of  those  who  hoard 
it,  or  giving  them  any  information. 

Contrary  to  every  reasonable  expeotation, 


ZS—Q 


I646.J  Escape   of  the  Children  83 

The  plan  (wcoeeda.  Tlie  qnnen'*  Joy.  Prl>o«  Ckarta* 

Lady  Morton  succeeded  in  her  wild  and  roman- 
tic attempt.  She  reached  Dover  in  safety.  She 
made  arrangements  for  crossing  in  the  packet 
boat,  which  then,  as  now,  plied  from  Dover  to 
Calais.  She  landed  at  length  safely  on  the 
French  coast,  where  she  threw  off  her  disguise, 
resumed  her  natural  grace  and  beauty,  made 
known  her  true  name  and  character,  and  trav- 
eled in  ease  and  safety  to  Paris.  The  excite- 
ment and  the  intoxicating  joy  which  Henrietta 
experienced  when  she  got  her  darling  child  once 
more  in  her  arms,  can  be  imagined,  perhaps,  even 
by  the  most  sedate  American  mother  ;  but  the 
wild  £ind  frantic  violence  of  her  expressions  of 
it,  none  but  those  who  are  conversant  with  the 
French  character  and  French  manners  can 
know. 

It  was  not  very  far  from  the  time  of  little 
Henrietta's  escape  from  her  father's  enemies  in 
London,  though,  in  fact,  before  it,  that  Prince 
Charles  made  his  escape  from  the  island  too. 
His  father,  finding  that  his  cause  was  beoomiag 
desperate,  gave  orders  to  those  who  had  charge 
of  his  son  to  retreat  to  the  southwestern  ooast 
of  the  island,  and  if  the  Republican  armies 
should  press  hard  upon  him  there,  he  was  to 
make  his  escape,  if  necessary,  by  sea. 


84  King  Charles   11.  [1646 

IW  prince  re^ireate  to  Cornwall.      Sail*  for  Scilly.      AniTM  In  Jeneff. 

The  southwestern  part  of  England  is  a  long, 
monntamous  promontory,  constituting  the  coun- 
ty of  Cornwall.  It  is  a  wild  and  secluded  re- 
gion, and  the  range  which  forms  it  seems  ta 
extend  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles  under  the  sea, 
where  it  rises  again  to  the  surface,  forming  a 
little  group  of  islands,  more  wild  and  rugged 
even  than  the  land.  These  are  the  Scilly  Isles. 
They  lie  secluded  and  solitary,  and  are  known 
chiefly  to  mankind  through  the  ships  that  seek 
shelter  among  them  in  storms.  Prince  Charleu 
retreated  from  post  to  post  through  Cornwall, 
the  danger  becoming  more  and  more  imminent 
every  day,  tUl  at  last  it  became  necessary  to  fly 
from  the  country  altogether.  He  embarked  on 
board  a  vessel,  and  went  first  to  the  Scilly  Isles 

From  Scilly  he  sailed  eastward  toward  the 
coast  of  France.  He  landed  first  at  the  island 
of  Jersey,  which,  though  it  is  very  near  the 
French  coast,  and  ia  inhabited  by  a  French 
population,  is  under  the  English  government 
Here  the  prince  met  with  a  very  cordial  recep- 
tion, as  the  authorities  were  strongly  attached 
to  his  father's  cause.  Jersey  is  a  beautiful  isl- 
and, far  enough  south  to  enjoy  a  genial  climate, 
where  flowers  bloom  and  fruits  ripen  in  tiie 
warm  sunbeams,  which  are  here  no  longer  ln» 


1646.]  Escape   of   the   Childeen.        SS 

?Ttne«  CharlM  utItm  at  Parte.  Hte  raMptloa.  Jiae* 

tercepted  by  the  driving  mists  and  rains  which 
•weep  Eilmost  perceptibly  along  the  hill-sides 
and  fields  of  England.* 

Prince  Charles  did  not,  however,  remain  long 
in  Jersey.  His  destination  was  Paris.  He 
passed,  therefore,  across  to  the  main  land,  and 
traveled  to  the  capital.  He  was  received  with 
great  honors  at  his  mother's  new  home,  in  the 
palace  of  the  Louvre,  as  a  royal  prinoe,  and  heir 
apparent  to  the  British  crown.  He  was  now 
sixteen.  The  adventures  which  he  met  with 
on  his  arrival  will  be  the  subject  of  the  next 
chapter. 

James,  the  Duke  of  York,  remained  stiU  in 
London.  He  continued  there  for  two  years, 
during  which  time  his  father's  affairs  went  to- 
tally  to  ruin.  The  unfortunate  king,  after  his 
armies  were  all  defeated,  and  his  cause  was 
finally  given  up  by  his  friends,  and  he  had  sur- 
rendered himself  a  prisoner  to  his  enemies,  wm 
taken  from  castle  to  castle,  every  where  strong- 
ly guarded  and  very  closely  confined.  At  length, 
worn  down  with  privations  and  sufferings,  and 
despairing  of  all  hope  of  relief,  he  was  taken  to 
London  to  be  tried  for  his  life.  James,  in  the 
mean  time,  with  his  brother,  the  little  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  and  his  sister  EliEabeth,  were  kept 


86  Kino   Charles  Jl.  (1646 

Jam**  •  olo«e  prlaoner.  Precantlona  to  Mcure  ktm 

in  St.  James's  Palace,  as  has  already  been  stat- 
ed, under  the  care  of  an  officer  to  whom  they 
had  been  given  in  charge.  » 

The  queen  was  particularly  anxious  to  have 
James  make  his  escape.  He  was  older  thaii 
the  others,  and  in  case  of  the  death  of  Charles, 
would  be,  of  course,  the  next  heir  to  the  crown 
lie  did,  in  fact,  live  till  after  the  close  of  his 
brother's  reign,  and  succeeded  him,  under  the 
title  of  James  the  Second.  His  being  thus  in 
the  direct  line  of  succession  made  his  father 
and  mother  very  desirous  of  effecting  his  rescua 
while  the  Parliament  were  strongly  desirous, 
for  the  same  reason,  of  keeping  him  safely.  His 
governor  received,  therefore,  a  special  charge  to 
take  the  most  effectual  precautions  to  prevent 
his  escape,  and,  for  this  purpose,  not  to  allow  of 
his  having  any  communication  whatever  with 
his  parents  or  his  absent  friends.  The  govern- 
or took  aU  necessary  measures  to  prevent  such 
intercourse,  and,  as  an  additional  precaution, 
made  James  promise  that  he  would  not  receive 
any  letter  from  any  person  unless  it  came 
through  him. 

James's  mother,  however,  not  knowing  these 
circumstances,  wrote  a  letter  to  him,  and  sent 
it  by  a  trusty  messenger,  directinp  him  to  watob 


1648.]  EsoAPB   OP  THE   Children.         87 

Tho  gtjaa  of  tonnU.  Junm  mfii— ■  tk«  Wttv. 

for  some  opportunity  to  deliver  it  unobsenred. 
Now  there  is  a  certain  game  of  ball,  called  ten- 
nis, which  was  formerly  a  favorite  amnsement 
in  England  and  on  the  Continent  of  Europe, 
and  which,  in  fact,  continues  to  be  played  there 
rtiU.  It  requires  an  oblong  inclosure,  surround- 
ed by  high  walls,  against  which  the  balls  re- 
bound. Such  an  inclosure  is  called  a  tennis 
court.  It  was  customary  to  build  such  tennia 
courts  in  most  of  the  royal  palaces.  There  was 
one  at  St.  James's  Palace,  where  the  young 
James,  it  seems,  used  sometimes  to  play.* 
Strangers  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
young  prince  in  his  coming  and  going  to  and 
from  this  place  of  amusement,  and  the  queen's 
messenger  determined  to  offer  him  the  letter 
there.  He  accordingly  tendered  it  to  him 
stealthily,  as  he  was  passing,  saying,  "Take 
this ;  it  is  from  your  mother."  James  drew 
back,  replying,  "  I  can  not  take  it.  I  have 
promisea  that  I  will  not."  The  messenger  re- 
ported to  the  queen  that  he  offered  the  letter  to 

*  It  waa  to  sach  a  tennis  court  at  VenudllM  that  th«  gnat 
National  Assembly  of  France  adjoomed  when  the  king  ez- 
eladed  them  from  their  hall,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
great  Bevolntion,  and  where  they  took  the  &moas  oath  not 
to  separate  till  they  bad  established  a  oonstitation,  which  has 
been  so  celebrated  in  history  as  the  Oath  of  the  Tennis  Court 


t^S  King  Charles  II.  [1648 

i«mM  recommended  to  escape.  Hia  oontrtTaaee* 


James,  and  that  he  refused  to  receive  it.  His 
mother  was  very  much  diapleased,  and  wondered 
what  such  a  strange  refusal  could  mean. 

Although  James  thus  failed  to  reoei^e  hii 
mother's  communication,  he  was  allowed  at 
length,  once  or  twice,  to  have  an  interview 
with  his  father,  and  in  these  interviews  the 
king  recommended  to  him  to  make  his  escape, 
if  he  could,  and  to  join  his  mother  in  France 
James  determined  to  obey  this  injunction,  and 
immediately  set  to  work  to  plan  his  escape. 
He  was  fifteen  years  of  age,  and,  of  course,  old 
enough  to  exercise  some  little  invention. 

He  was  accustomed,  as  we  have  already  stat- 
ed, to  join  the  younger  children  in  games  of 
hide  and  go  seek.  He  began  now  to  search  for 
the  most  recondite  hiding  places,  where  he  could 
not  be  found,  and  when  he  had  concealed  him- 
self in  such  a  place,  he  would  remain  there  for 
a  very  long  time,  until  his  playmates  had  given 
up  the  search  in  despair.  Then,  at  length,  after 
having  been  missing  for  half  an  hour,  he  would 
reappear  of  his  own  accord.  He  thought  that 
by  this  plan  he  should  get  the  children  and  the 
attendants  accustomed  to  his  being  for  a  long 
time  out  of  sight,  so  that,  when  at  length  ha 
should  finally  disappear,  their  at*«»ntion  would 


1648*]  EscAPJc  07  THs  Ghilbbbh.        89 

Jnmea  locks  up  bis  dog.  He  esoai>e8  from  the  palaoa. 

not  be  seriously  attracted  to  the  circumstance 
until  he  should  have  had  time  to  get  well  set 
out  upon  his  journey. 

He  had,  like  his  mother,  a  little  dog,  but,  un- 
like her,  he  was  not  so  strongly  attached  to  it 
as  to  be  willing  to  endanger  his  life  to  avoid  a 
separation.  When  the  time  arrived,  therefore, 
to  set  out  on  his  secret  journey,  he  locked  the 
dog  up  in  his  room,  to  prevent  its  following  him, 
and  thus  increasing  the  probability  of  his  being 
recognized  and  brought  back.  He  then  engaged 
his  brother  and  sister  and  his  other  playmates 
in  the  palace  in  a  game  of  hide  and  go  seek. 
He  went  off  ostensibly  to  hide,  but,  instead  of 
doing  so,  he  stole  out  of  the  palace  gates  in  com- 
pany with  a  friend  named  Banfield,  and  a  foot- 
man. It  was  in  the  rear  of  the  palace  that 
he  made  his  exit,  at  a  sort  of  postern  gate, 
which  opened  upon  an  extensive  park.  After 
crossing  the  park,  the  party  hurried  on  through 
London,  and  then  directed  their  course  down 
the  River  Thames  toward  Qravesend,  a  port 
near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  they  intend- 
ed to  embark  for  Holland.  They  had  taken 
the  precaution  to  disguise  themselves.  James 
wore  a  wig,  which,  changing  the  color  and  ap< 
p«aranc«  of  his  hair,  seemed  to  give  a  totally 


»0  Kino  Charles  II  [164b 

iuBM  arrlTe*  In  Holland.        Charlea't  lut  interrlew  with  hi*  ehfldreo 

new  expression  to  his  faoe.  He  substituted  oth 
er  clothes,  too,  for  those  which  he  was  usually 
aooustomed  to  wear.  The  whole  party  suc- 
ceeded thus  in  traversing  the  country  without 
detection.  They  reached  Gravesend,  embarked 
on  board  a  vessel  there,  and  sailed  to  Holland, 
where  James  joined  the  Prince  of  Orange  and 
his  sister,  and  sent  word  to  his  mother  that  he 
had  arrived  there  in  safety. 

His  little  brother  and  sister  were  left  behind. 
They  were  too  young  to  fly  themselves,  and 
too  old  to  be  conveyed  away,  as  little  Henrietta 
had  been,  in  the  arms  of  another.  They  had, 
however,  the  mournful  satisfaction  of  seeing 
their  father  just  before  his  execution,  and  of 
bidding  him  a  last  farewell.  The  king,  when 
he  was  condemned  to  die,  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  see  these  children.  They  were  brought  to 
visit  him  in  the  chamber  where  he  was  con- 
fined. His  parting  interview  with  them,  and 
the  messages  of  affection  and  farewell  which  he 
•ent  to  their  brothers  and  sisters,  and  to  their 
molher,  constitute  one  of  the  most  affecting 
scenes  which  the  telescope  of  history  brings  to 
our  view,  in  that  long  and  distant  vista  of  the 
past,  which  it  enables  us  so  fully  to  explore. 
The  little  Gloucester  was  too  young  to  under- 


1648.]  Escape   of   the   Children.        91 


Sorrow  cf  the  children.  Elizabeth'*  aecoviA 

stand  the  sorrows  of  the  hour,  but  Elizabeth 
"elt  them  in  all  their  intensity.  She  was  twelve 
years  old.  When  brought  to  her  father,  she 
burst  into  tears,  and  wept  long  and  bitterly. 
Iler  little  brother,  sympathizing  in  his  sister's 
sorrow,  though  not  comprehending  its  cause, 
wept  bitterly  too.  Elizabeth  was  thoughtful 
enough  to  write  an  account  of  what  took  place 
at  this  most  solemn  farewell  as  soon  as  it  was 
over.     Her  account  is  as  follows  : 

"  What  the  king  said  to  me  on  the  29th  of 
January,  1648,  the  last  time  I  had  the  hap- 
piness to  see  him. 

"  He  told  me  that  he  was  glad  I  was  come, 
for,  though  he  had  not  time  to  say  much,  yet 
somewhat  he  wished  to  say  to  me,  which  he 
could  not  to  another,  and  he  had  feared  '  tha 
cruelty'  was  too  great  to  permit  his  writing. 
'  But,  darling,'  he  added,  '  thou  wilt  forget  what 
I  tell  thee '  Then,  shedding  an  abundance  of 
tears,  i  told  him  that  I  would  write  down  all 
he  said  to  me.  *  He  wished  me,'  he  said,  '  not 
to  grieve  and  torment  myself  for  him,  for  it  was 
a  glorious  death  he  should  die,  it  being  for  the 
laws  and  religion  of  the  land.'  He  told  me  what 
books  to  read  against  popery      He  said  *  that 


93  Kino  Charles  I  L  [1648. 

KUxabeth's  account  of  her  Interriew  with  her  fathor 

he  had  forgiven  all  his  enemies,  and  he  hoped 
God  would  forgive  them  also ;'  and  he  com 
manded  us,  and  all  the  rest  of  my  brothers  and 
sisters,  to  forgive  them  too.  Above  all,  he  bade 
me  tell  my  mother  '  that  his  thoughts  had  nev- 
er strayed  from  her,  and  that  his  love  for  her 
would  be  the  same  to  the  last ;'  withal,  he  com- 
manded me  (and  my  brother)  to  love  her  and 
be  obedient  to  her.  He  desired  me  'not  to 
grieve  for  him,  for  he  should  die  a  martyr,  and 
that  he  doubted  not  but  God  would  restore  the 
throne  to  his  son,  and  that  then  we  should  be 
all  happier  than  we  could  possibly  have  been  if 
he  had  lived.' 

"  Then  taking  my  brother  Gloucester  on  hia 
knee,  he  said,  *  Dear  boy,  now  will  they  cut  off 
thy  father's  head.'  Upon  which  the  child  look- 
ed  very  steadfastly  upon  him.  'Heed,  my 
child,  what  I  say ;  they  will  out  off  my  head, 
and  perhaps  make  thee  a  king;  but,  mark 
what  I  say  !  you  must  not  be  a  king  as  long  as 
your  brothers  Charles  and  James  live;  there- 
fore, I  charge  you,  do  not  be  made  a  king  by 
them.'  At  which  the  child,  sighing  deeply,  re- 
plied, *  I  will  be  torn  in  pieces  first.'  And  these 
words,  coming  so  unexpectedly  from  so  young 
a  ohilo.  -jjoiced  my  father  exceedingly.     And 


1650.]  Escape  of  the   Childhen.         93 

Perplexity  of  the  ParliamoaL  Decline  of  Elizabeth. 

his  majesty  spoke  to  him  of  the  welfare  of  his 
soul,  and  to  keep  his  religion,  commanding  hira 
to  fear  God,  and  he  would  provide  for  him ;  all 
which  the  young  child  earnestly  promised  to  do.** 

After  the  king's  death  the  Parliament  kept 
these  children  in  custody  for  some  time,  and  at 
last  they  became  somewhat  perplexed  to  know 
what  to  do  with  them.  It  was  even  proposed, 
when  Cromwell's  Republican  government  had 
become  fully  established,  to  bind  them  out  ap- 
prentices, to  learn  some  useful  trade.  This  plsin 
was,  however,  not  carried  into  effect.  They 
were  held  as  prisoners,  and  sent  at  last  to  Caris- 
brooke  Castle,  where  their  father  had  been  con- 
fined. Little  Henry,  too  young  to  understand 
his  sorrows,  grew  in  strength  and  stature,  like 
any  other  boy ;  but  Elizabeth  pined  and  sunk 
under  the  burden  of  her  woes.  She  mourned  in- 
cessantly her  father's  cruel  death,  her  mother's 
&nd  her  brother's  exile,  and  her  own  wearisome 
and  hopeless  captivity.  "  Little  Harry,"  as  she 
called  him,  and  a  Bible,  which  her  father  gave 
her  in  his  last  interview  with  her,  were  her  cnly 
companions.  She  lingered  along  for  two  years 
after  her  father's  death,  until  at  length  the  hec- 
tic flush,  the  signal  of  approaching  diseolutioa, 


34  KiNe  Charles  11.  [1650 

eaiiabeth't  happy  end.  liXO*  Haary  test  tc  hU  OMtlMt 

appeared  upon  her  cheek,  and  an  unnatural 
brillianoy  brightened  in  her  eyes.  They  sent 
her  father's  physician  to  see  if  he  could  save 
her.  His  prescriptions  did  no  good.  One  day 
the  attendants  came  into  her  apartment  and 
found  her  sitting  in  her  chair,  with  her  cheek 
resting  upon  the  Bible  which  she  had  been  read- 
ing, and  which  she  had  placed  for  a  sort  of  pil- 
bw  on  the  table,  to  rest  her  weary  head  upon 
when  her  reading  was  done.  She  was  motion- 
less. They  would  have  thought  her  asleep,  but 
her  eyes  were  not  closed.  She  was  dead.  The 
poor  child's  sorrows  and  sufferings  were  ended 
forever. 

The  stern  Republicans  who  now  held  domin- 
ion  over  England,  men  of  iron  as  they  were, 
could  not  but  be  touched  with  the  unhappy  fate 
of  this  their  beautiful  and  innocent  victim ;  and 
they  so  far  relented  from  the  severity  of  the 
policy  which  they  had  pursued  toward  the  ill- 
fated  family  as  to  send  the  little  Glouceartcr, 
after  his  sister's  death,  home  to  his  mother. 


1646.]        Reception   at   Paris.  95 

StBAtloa  af  th«  royal  family  of  Piranee. 


Chapter  V. 
The  Fringe's  Receptiow  at  Paris. 

SO  complicated  a  story  as  that  of  the  fam- 
ily of  Charles  can  not  be  related,  in  all 
its  parts,  in  the  exact  order  of  time ;  and  hav- 
ing now  shown  under  what  circumstances  the 
various  members  of  the  family  made  their  es- 
cape from  the  dangers  which  threatened  them 
in  England,  we  return  to  follow  the  adventures 
of  Prince  Charles  during  his  residence  on  the 
Continent,  and,  more  particularly  in  this  chap- 
ter, to  describe  his  reception  by  the  royal  fam- 
ily of  France.  He  was  one  of  the  first  of  the 
children  that  escaped,  having  arrived  in  France 
in  1646.  His  father  was  not  beheaded  until 
twg  years  afterward. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  understand  dis- 
tinctly the  situation  in  which  Charles  found 
himself  on  his  arrival  at  Paris,  we  must  first 
describe  the  condition  of  the  royal  family  of 
France  at  this  time.  They  resided  sometimes 
at  Fontainebleau,  a  splendid  palace  in  the  midst 
of  a  magnificent  park  about  forty  miles  from 
the  oity.     Henrietta,  it  will  be  recollected,  was 


96  Kino  Charles  IL  [1646 

D«atli  of  LoRla  Xm.  Aeceaiion  of  Loui*  XIV 

the  sister  of  a  king  of  France.  This  king  was 
Louis  XIII.  He  died,  however,  not  far  from 
the  time  of  Queen  Henrietta's  arrival  in  the 
country,  leaving  his  little  son  Louis,  then  five 
years  old,  heir  to  the  crov^ni.  The  little  Louis 
of  course  became  king  immediately,  in  name, 
as  Louis  XIV.,  and  in  the  later  periods  of  his 
life  he  attained  to  so  high  a  degree  of  prosperi- 
ty and  power,  that  he  has  been,  ever  since  his 
day,  considered  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  all 
the  French  kings.  He  was,  of  course,  Prince 
Charles's  cousin.  At  the  period  of  Prince 
Charles's  arrival,  however,  he  was  a  mere  child, 
being  then  about  eight  years  old.  Of  course, 
he  was  too  young  really  to  exercise  any  of  the 
powers  of  the  government.  His  mother,  Anne 
of  Austria,  was  made  regent,  and  authorized  to 
govern  the  country  until  the  young  kiag  should 
arrive  at  a  suitable  age  to  exercise  his  heredi- 
tary powers  in  his  ov^n  name.  Anne  of  Aus- 
tria had  been  always  very  kind  to  Henrietta, 
and  had  always  rendered  her  assistance  when- 
ever  she  had  been  reduced  to  any  special  ex. 
tremity  of  distress.  It  was  she  who  had  sent 
the  supplies  of  money  and  clothing  to  Henriet- 
ta when  she  fled,  sick  and  destitute,  to  Exe- 
ter, vainly  hoping  to  find  repose  and  the  mtana 
of  restoration  them 


1646.]        Reception   at  Paris.  97 

Gaaton,  doke  of  Orleana.  Other  members  of  the  royal  family 

Besides  King  Louis  XIEI.,  who  had  died,  Hen- 
«detta  had  another  brother,  whose  name  was 
Gaston,  duke  of  Orleans.  The  Duke  of  Orleans 
had  a  daughter,  who  was  styled  the  Duchess  of 
Montpensier,  deriving  the  title  from  her  moth- 
er. She  was,  of  course,  also  a  cousin  of  Prince 
Charles.  Her  father,  being  brother  of  the  late 
king,  and  uncle  of  the  present  one,  was  made 
lieutenant  general  of  the  kingdom,  having  thus 
the  second  place,  that  is,  the  place  next  to  the 
queen,  in  the  management  of  the  affairs  of  the 
realm.  Thus  the  little  king  commenced  his 
reign  by  having  in  bib  court  his  mother  as  queen 
regent,  his  uncle  lieutenant  general,  and  his 
aunt,  an  exiled  queen  from  a  sister  realm,  his 
guest.  He  had  also  in  his  household  his  broth- 
er Philip,  younger  than  himself,  his  cousin  the 
young  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  and  his  cousin 
the  Prince  Charles.  The  family  relationship 
of  all  these  individuals  will  be  made  more  clear 
by  being  presented  in  a  tabular  form,  as  follows : 

flOTAl  FA1III.T  OF  FbAMOI  Ut  TBM  Tim  OF  LOUU  XIV. 

LonU  Xm.  Louis  XIV. 

Anne  of  Austria.  Philip,  8  yeais  old. 

j_        Oaston,  duke  of  Orleans.        Duchess  of  tiaaXp^aUm,  V 
DvehcM  of  Blontpensier. 


Henrietta  Marl*.  Prlaoe  OuutIh,  IC 

Kia«  Charles  L 


23—7 


98 

Kino 

Charles 

11. 

|1«46 

The 

young  king. 

Th«  Palace  Royal 

In  the  above  table,  the  first  column  oontains 
the  name  of  Henry  IV.,  the  second  those  of 
three  of  his  children,  with  the  persons  whom 
they  respectively  married,  and  the  third  the  foui 
grandchildren,  who,  as  cousins,  now  found  them- 
selves domesticated  together  in  the  royal  pala- 
ces of  France. 

The  young  king  was,  as  has  already  been 
said,  about  eight  years  old  at  the  time  of  Prince 
Charles's  arrival.  The  palace  in  which  he  re- 
sided when  in  the  city  was  the  Palace  Royal, 
which  was  then,  and  has  been  ever  since,  one 
of  the  most  celebrated  buildings  in  the  world. 
It  was  built  at  an  enormous  expense,  during  a 
previous  reign,  by  a  powerful  minister  of  state, 
who  was,  in  ecclesiastical  rank,  a  cardinal,  and 
his  mansion  was  named,  accordingly,  the  Palace 
Cardinal.  It  had,  however,  been  recently  taken 
as  a  royal  residence,  and  its  name  changed 
to  Palace  Royal.  Here  the  queen  regent  had 
her  grand  apartments  of  state,  every  thing  be- 
ing as  rich  as  the  most  lavish  expenditure  could 
make  it.  She  had  one  apartment,  called  an  ora- 
tory, a  sort  of  closet  for  prayer,  which  was  light- 
ed by  a  large  window,  the  sash  of  which  was 
made  of  silver.  The  interior  of  the  room  was 
ornamented  with  the  most  costly  paiatingi^  and 


1646.J        RECEPTioit   AT   Paris.  9S» 

4  royal  household  in  miniatura        Child'*  play  on  a  inagnlfle«mt  Malfli 

furniture,  and  was  enriched  with  a  profusion  of 
silver  and  gold.  The  little  king  had  his  range  of 
apartments  too,  with  a  whole  household  of  offi- 
cers and  attendants  as  little  as  himself.  These 
children  were  occupied  continually  with  ceremo- 
nies, and  pageants,  and  mock  military  parades, 
in  which  they  figured  in  miniature  arms  and 
badges  of  authority,  and  with  dresses  made  to 
imitate  those  of  real  monarchs  and  ministers  of 
state.  Every  thing  was  regulated  with  the  ut- 
most regard  to  etiquette  and  punctilio,  and  with- 
out any  limits  or  bounds  to  the  expense.  Thus, 
though  the  youthful  officers  of  the  little  mon- 
arch's household  exercised  no  real  power,  they 
displayed  all  the  forms  and  appearances  of  royal- 
ty with  more  than  usual  pomp  and  splendor.  It 
was  a  species  of  child's  play,  it  is  true,  but  it 
was  probably  the  most  grand  and  magnificent 
child's  play  that  the  world  has  ever  witnessed. 
It  was  into  this  extraordinary  scene  that  Prince 
Charles  found  himself  ushered  on  his  arrival  in 
France. 

At  the  time  of  the  prince's  arrival  the  court 
happened  to  be  residing,  not  at  Paris,  but  at 
Fontainebleau.  Fontainebleau,  as  has  already 
boen  stated,  is  about  fcrtj'  miles  from  Paris,  to 
tko  southward.     TLer«  is  a  very  splendid  pal- 


100  King  ChaRles  IJ.  [1646 

Pontalnebleaa.  The  young  Dncheas  d«  Montpesaier 

aoe  and  castle  there,  built  originally  in  very  an- 
cient times.  There  is  a  town  near,  both  the 
castle  and  the  town  being  in  the  midst  of  a  vast 
park  and  forest,  one  of  the  most  extended  and 
magnificent  royal  domains  in  Europe.  This 
forest  has  been  reserved  as  a  hunting  ground 
for  the  French  kings  from  a  very  early  age. 
It  covers  an  area  of  forty  thousand  acres,  being 
thus  many  miles  in  extent.  The  royal  family 
were  at  this  palace  at  the  time  of  Prince 
Charles's  arrival,  celebrating  the  festivities  of 
a  marriage.  The  prince  accordingly,  as  we 
shall  presently  see,  went  there  to  join  them. 

There  were  two  persons  who  were  anticipa- 
ting the  prince's  arrival  in  France  with  special 
interest,  his  mother,  and  his  young  cousin,  the 
Duchess  of  Montpensier.  Her  Christian  name 
was  Anne  Marie  Louisa.*  She  was  a  gay, 
frivolous,  and  ooquetish  girl,  of  about  nineteen, 
immensely  rich,  being  the  heiress  of  the  vast 
estates  of  her  mother,  who  was  not  living.  Her 
*ather,  though  he  was  the  lieutenant  general  of 

•  £he  is  commonly  called,  in  the  annals  of  the  day  in  which 
the  lived,  Mademoiselle,  as  she  was,  par  eminence,  the  yoang 
lady  of  the  court.  In  history  she  is  commonly  called  Made- 
miiselle  de  Montpensier;  we  shall  call  her,  in  this  narratiT*^ 
•iiaply  Anne  Maria,  as  that  is,  for  our  porpoae,  tb«  most  oo» 
v«ai«st  denc^natiao. 


1646,]        Reception  at  Paris.  101 

Charaotar  of  th*  dnebeM.  Marriage  plaiu 

the  realm,  and  the  former  king's  brother,  was 
not  rich.  His  wife,  when  she  died,  had  be- 
queathed all  her  vast  estates  to  her  daughter 
Anne  Maria  was  naturally  haughty  and  vain^ 
and,  as  her  father  was  accustomed  to  come  oc- 
casionally to  her  to  get  supplies  of  money,  she 
was  made  vainer  and  more  self-conceited  still 
by  his  dependence  upon  her.  Several  matches 
had  been  proposed  to  her,  and  among  them  the 
Emperor  of  Germany  had  been  named.  He 
was  a  widower.  His  first  wife,  who  had  been 
Anne  Maria's  aunt,  had  just  died.  As  the  em- 
peror was  a  potentate  of  great  importance,  the 
young  belle  thought  she  should  prefer  him  to 
imy  of  the  others  who  had  been  proposed,  and  she 
made  no  secret  of  this  her  choice.  It  is  true 
that  he  had  made  no  proposal  to  her,  but  she 
presumed  that  he  would  do  so  after  a  suitable 
time  had  elapsed  from  the  death  of  his  first  wife, 
and  Anne  Maria  was  contented  to  wait,  consid- 
ering the  lofty  elevation  to  which  she  would  at- 
tain oa  becoming  his  bride. 

Bat  Queen  Henrietta  Maria  had  another 
plan.  She  was  very  desirous  to  obtain  Anne 
Maria  for  the  wife  of  her  son  Charles.  There 
were  many  reeisons  for  this.  'J"h<.'-  young  lady 
was  a  princess  of  the  royaJ  h»i.f\  of  France; 


102  Kino   Charles    II.  (1646 

Qaeen  Henrietta's  plan  for  Charle*  and  Anne  Maria. 

•he  possessed,  too,  an  immense  fortune,  and  waa 
young  and  beautiful  withal,  though  not  quite 
■o  young  as  Charles  himself.  He  was  sixteen, 
and  she  was  about  nineteen.  It  is  true  that 
Charles  was  now,  in  some  sense,  a  fugitive  and 
an  exile,  destitute  of  property,  and  without  a 
home.  Still  he  was  a  prince.  He  was  the  heir 
apparent  of  the  kingdoms  of  England  and  Soot- 
land.  He  WEis  young  and  accomplished.  These 
high  qualifications,  somewhat  exaggerated,  per- 
haps, by  maternal  partiality,  seemed  quite  suf- 
ficient to  Henrietta  to  induce  the  proud  duchess 
to  become  the  prince's  bride. 

All  this,  it  must  be  remembered,  took  place 
before  the  execution  of  King  Charles  the  First, 
and  when,  of  course,  the  fortunes  of  the  family 
were  not  so  desperate  as  they  afterward  be- 
came. Queen  Henrietta  had  a  great  many 
conversations  with  Anne  Maria  before  the  prince 
arrived,  in  which  she  praised  very  highly  his 
person  and  his  accomplishments.  She  narrated 
to  the  duchess  the  various  extraordinary  adven- 
tures and  the  narrow  escapes  which  the  prince 
had  met  with  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings 
in  England  ;  she  told  her  how  dutiful  and  kind 
he  had  been  to  her  as  a  son,  and  how  efHoien* 
and  courageous  in  his  father's  cause  as  a  w>.dior 


1646.J  K-KCKPTION     AT    1"  A  R 1 8.  103 

Prince  ClittlM  gOM  to  Parii.  He  proceeds  to  Pontainableao. 

She  described  his  appearance  and  his  manners, 
and  foretold  how  he  would  act,  what  tastes  and 
preferences  he  would  form,  and  how  he  would 
be  regarded  in  the  French  court.  The  young 
duchess  listened  to  all  this  with  an  appearance 
of  indifference  and  unconcern,  which  was  part- 
ly real  and  partly  only  assumed.  She  could  not 
help  feeling  some  curiosity  to  see  her  cousin, 
but  her  head  was  too  full  of  the  grander  desti- 
nation of  being  the  wife  of  the  emperor  to  think 
much  of  the  pretensions  of  this  wandering  and 
homeless  exile. 

Prince  Charles,  on  his  arrival,  went  first  to 
Paris,  where  he  found  his  mother.  There  was 
an  invitation  for  them  here  to  proceed  to  Fon- 
tainebleau,  where,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
the  young  king  and  his  court  were  now  residing. 
They  went  there  accordingly,  and  were  received 
with  every  mark  of  attention  and  honor.  The 
queen  regent  took  the  young  king  into  the  car- 
riage of  state,  and  rode  some  miles  along  the 
avenue,  through  the  forest,  to  meet  the  prince 
and  his  mother  when  they  were  coming.  They 
were  attended  with  the  usual  cortege  of  carria- 
ges and  horsemen,  and  they  moved  with  all  the 
etiquette  and  ceremony  proper  to  be  observed 
In  the  reception  of  royal  visitors. 


104  Kino   Charles  11.  [1646. 

Meeting  In  the  forett  The  prince  and  the  dnohew 

When  the  carriages  met  in  the  forest,  they 
stopped,  and  the  distinguished  personages  con- 
tained in  them  alighted.  ,  Queen  Henrietta  in- 
troduced her  son  to  the  queen  regent  and  to 
Louis,  the  French  king,  and  also  to  other  per- 
sonages of  distinction  who  were  in  their  train. 
Among  them  was  Anne  Maria.  The  queen  re- 
gent took  Henrietta  and  the  prince  into  the  car- 
riage with  her  and  the  young  king,  and  they 
proceeded  thus  together  back  to  the  palace. 
Prince  Charles  was  somewhat  embarrassed  in 
making  all  these  new  acquaintances,  in  circum- 
stances, too,  of  so  much  ceremony  and  parade, 
and  the  more  so,  as  his  knowledge  of  the  French 
language  was  imperfect.  He  could  understand 
it  when  spoken,  but  could  not  speak  it  well  him- 
self, and  he  appeared,  accordingly,  somewhat 
awkward  and  confused.  He  seemed  particu- 
larly at  a  loss  in  his  intercourse  with  Anne 
Maria.  She  was  a  little  older  than  himself, 
and,  being  perfectly  at  home,  both  in  the  cere- 
monies of  the  occasion  and  in  the  language  of 
the  oomnany,  she  felt  entirely  at  her  ease  her- 
self;  and  yet,  from  her  natural  temperament 
and  character,  she  assumed  such  an  air  and 
bearing  as  would  tend  to  prevent  the  prince 
from  being  so.     In  a  word,  it  happened  then^ 


1646.]        Reception   at   Paris.  105 

Anne  MarU'i  mamoln.  Hsr  daMsrlptlon  of  liw  prtao*. 

tus  it  has  often  happened  since  on  similar  ooca- 
«ions,  that  the  beau  was  afraid  of  the  belle. 

The  party  returned  to  the  palace.  On  alight- 
ing, the  little  king  gave  his  hand  to  his  aunt, 
the  Queen  of  England,  while  Prince  Charles 
gave  his  to  the  queen  regent,  and  thus  the  two 
matrons  were  gallanted  into  the  hall.  The 
prince  had  a  seat  assigned  him  on  the  following 
day  in  the  queen  regent's  drawing-room,  and  was 
thus  regularly  instated  as  an  inmate  of  the  roy- 
al household.  He  remained  here  several  days, 
and  at  length  the  whole  party  returned  to  Paris. 

Anne  Maria,  in  after  years,  wrote  reminis- 
cences of  her  early  life,  which  were  published 
after  her  death.  In  this  journal  she  gives  an 
account  of  her  introduction  to  the  young  prince, 
and  of  her  first  acquaintance  with  him.  It  is 
expressed  as  follows : 

"  He  WEis  only  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  of 
age,  rather  tall,  with  a  fine  head,  black  hair,  a 
dark  complexion,  and  a  tolerably  agreeable 
countenance.  But  he  neither  spoke  nor  un- 
derstood French,  which  was  very  inconvenient 
Nevertheless,  every  thing  was  done  to  amuse 
him,  and,  during  the  three  days  that  he  re- 
mained at  Fontainebleau,  there  were  hunts  and 
tirery  other  sport  which  oould  be  oommanded 


106 

King  Charles   II.            [1646. 

Beturn  to  Parla. 

ImpreailaiM  oa  Ch&rieA 

in  that  season.  He  paid  his  respects  to  all  the 
princesses,  and  I  discovered  immediately  that 
the  Queen  of  England  wished  to  persuade  me 
that  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  me.  She  told 
me  that  he  talked  of  me  incessantly  ;  that,  were 
she  not  to  prevent  it,  he  would  be  in  my  apaxt 
ment*  at  aU  hours ;  that  he  found  me  (J^ite  to 
his  taste,  and  that  he  was  in  despair  on  account 
of  the  death  of  the  empress,  for  he  was  afraid 
that  they  would  seek  to  marry  me  to  the  em- 
peror. I  listened  to  all  she  said  as  became  me, 
but  it  did  not  have  as  much  effect  upon  me  as 
probably  she  wished." 

After  spending  a  few  days  at  Fontainebleau, 
the  whole  party  returned  to  Paris,  and  Queen 
Henrietta  and  the  prince  took  up  their  abode 
again  in  the  Palace  Royal,  or,  as  it  is  now  more 
commonly  called,  the  Palais  Royal.  Charlea 
was  much  impressed  with  the  pomp  and  splen- 
dor of  the  French  court,  so  different  from  the 
rough  mode  of  life  to  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed in  his  campaigns  and  wanderings  in  En- 
gland. The  etiquette  and  formality,  however, 
were  extreme,  every  thing,  even  the  minutest 
motions,  being  regulated  by  nice  rules,  which 

*  This  means  at  her  residence.     The  whole  suite  of  roomo 
•ccupied  by  a  family  is  called,  in  France,  their  apartmetu 


1646.]        Rboeption   at   Paris  107 

Pomp  and  iplendor.  Anecdotei  of  the  court 

made  »xjial  intercourse  and  enjoyment  one  per- 
petual ceremony.  But,  notwithstanding  all  thLi 
pomp  and  splendor,  and  the  multitude  of  offi- 
cers and  attendants  who  were  constantly  on 
service,  there  seems  to  have  been,  in  the  results 
obtained,  a  strange  mixture  of  grand  parade 
with  discomfort  and  disorder.  At  one  time  at 
Fontainebleau,  at  a  great  entertainment,  where 
all  the  princes  and  potentates  that  had  been 
drawn  there  by  the  wedding  were  assembled, 
the  cooks  quarreled  in  the  kitchen,  and  one  of 
the  courses  of  the  supper  failed  entirely  in  con- 
sequence of  their  dissensions ;  and  at  another 
time,  as  a  large  party  of  visitors  were  passing 
out  through  a  suite  of  rooms  in  great  state,  to 
descend  a  grand  staircase,  where  some  illustri- 
ous foreigners,  who  were  present,  were  to  take 
their  leave,  they  found  the  apartments  through 
which  they  were  to  pass  aU  dark.  The  servants 
aad  neglected  or  forgotten  to  light  them. 

These  and  similar  incidents  show  that  there 
may  be  regal  luxury  and  state  without  order 
or  comfort,  as  there  may  be  regal  wealth  and 
power  without  any  substantial  happiness.  Not- 
withstanding this,  however,  Prince  Charles  soon 
became  strongly  interested  in  the  modes  of  life 
to  which  he  wa«  introduced  at  Pari?  and  at 


108  King   Charles   II.  [1647. 

Qay  life  of  the  prince.  Uli  attention  to  Anna  Mairv* 

Pontalnebleau  There  were  balls,  parties,  fes- 
tivities, and  excursions  of  pleasure  without  num- 
ber, his  interest  in  these  all  being  heightened 
by  the  presence  of  Anne  Maria,  whom  he  soon 
began  to  regard  with  a  strong  degree  of  that  pe- 
culiar kind  of  interest  which  princesses  and  heir- 
esses inspire.  In  Anne  Maria's  memoirs  of  her 
early  life,  we  have  a  vivid  description  of  many  of 
the  scenes  in  which  both  she  herself  and  Charles 
were  such  prominent  actors.  She  wrote  always 
with  great  freedom,  and  in  a  very  graphic  man- 
ner, so  that  the  tale  which  she  tells  of  this  period 
of  her  life  forms  a  very  entertaining  narrative. 

Anne  Maria  gives  a  very  minute  account  o» 
what  took  place  between  herself  and  Charles 
on  several  occasions  in  the  course  of  their  ac- 
quaintance, and  describes  particularly  various 
balls,  and  parties,  and  excursions  of  pleasure  on 
which  she  was  attended  by  the  young  prince. 
Her  vanity  was  obviously  gratified  by  the  inter- 
est which  Charles  seemed  to  take  in  her,  but 
•be  was  probably  inc^able  of  any  feelings  of 
deep  and  disinterested  love,  and  Charles  made 
no  impression  upon  her  heart.  She  reserved 
herself  for  the  emperor 

For  example,  they  were  all  one  night  invited 
to  a  grand  ball  by  the  Duchess  de  Cboisy.     Thi* 


1647.J        EjiciiPTion  at  Paris.  109 

Tixe  DacheM  de  ChoUjr  ■  balL  Anne  MarU'a  tafleL 

lady  lived  in  a  magnificent  mansion,  called  the 
Hotel  de  Choisy.  Just  before  the  time  came 
for  the  party  of  visitors  to  go,  the  Queen  of  En- 
gland came  over  with  Charles  to  the  apartments 
of  Anne  Maria.  The  queen  came  ostensibly  to 
give  the  last  touches  to  the  adjustment  of  the 
young  lady's  dress,  and  to  the  arrangement  of 
her  hair,  but  really,  without  doubt,  in  pursu- 
ance of  her  policy  of  taking  every  occasion  to 
bring  the  young  people  together. 

"  She  came,"  says  Anne  Maria,  in  her  nar- 
'^tive,  "  to  dress  me  and  arrange  my  hair  her- 
self. She  came  for  this  purpose  to  my  apart- 
ments, and  took  the  utmost  pains  to  set  me  off 
to  the  best  advantage,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales 
held  the  flambeau  near  me  to  light  my  toilet 
the  whole  time.  I  wore  black,  white,  and  car- 
nation ;  and  my  jewelry  was  fastened  by  ribbons 
of  the  same  colors.  I  wore  a  plume  of  the  same 
kind ;  all  these  had  been  selected  and  ordered 
by  my  aunt  Henrietta.  The  queen  regent,  who 
knew  that  I  was  in  my  aunt  Henrietta's  hands, 
.  wnt  for  me  to  come  and  see  her  when  I  was  all 
ready,  before  going  to  the  ball.  I  accordingly 
went,  and  this  gave  the  prince  an  opportunity 
to  go  at  once  to  the  Hotel  de  Choisy,  and  be 
ready  there  to  receive  me  when  I  should  arrive 


110  Kino  Charles  U.  [164S. 

The  prince's  aMldnltle*.  F«te  at  the  PbUi  Royal 

I  found  him  there  at  the  door,  ready  to  hand  ine 
from  my  coach.  I  stopped  in  a  ohainber  to  re- 
adjust my  hair,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  again 
held  a  flambeau  for  me.  This  time,  too,  he 
brought  his  cousin,  Prince  Rupert,  as  an  inter- 
preter between  us  ;  for,  believe  it  who  will, 
though  he  could  understand  every  word  I  said  to 
him,  he  could  not  reply  the  least  sentence  to  me 
in  French.  When  the  ball  was  finished  and  we 
retired,  the  prince  followed  me  to  the  porter's 
lodge  of  my  hotel,*  and  lingered  till  I  entered, 
and  then  went  his  way. 

"There  was  another  occasion  on  which  his 
gallantry  to  me  attracted  a  great  deal  of  atten- 
tion.  It  was  at  a  great  fete  celebrated  at  the 
Palais  Royal.  There  was  a  play  acted,  with 
scenery  and  music,  and  then  a  baU.  It  took 
three  whole^  days  to  arrange  my  ornaments  for 
this  night.  The  Queen  of  England  would  dress 
me  on  this  occasion,  also,  with  her  own  hands. 
My  robe  was  all  figured  with  diamonds,  with 

*  In  all  the  great  housea  in  Paris,  the  principal  boildinga  of 
the  edifice  stand  back  from  the  itreet,  ■urroxinding  a  coart- 
ywrd,  which  has  sometimei  shrabberj  and  flowen  and  a 
fMUtain  in  the  center.  The  entraaoe  to  this  ooort-jard  is  b; 
a  fvaat  gate  and  archwaj  on  the  street,  with  the  apartmeats 
cwoapied  bj  the  forttr,  that  is,  the  keeper  of  the  gate,  ob  une 
«da.  The  entranee  to  the  porter's  kxlge  is  ftom  waimr  the 
aiehwaf. 


1648.]        Receptuw  at  Pa»i».  lU 

Mam»  MarU't  draM.  Hawi  of  tha  beheadliig  of  Clurlaa  I 

oaraation  trimmings.  I  wore  the  jewels  of  the 
orown  of  Frnnne,  and,  to  add  to  them,  the  Queen 
of  England  lent  me  some  fine  ones  of  her  own, 
which  she  had  not  then  sold.  The  queen  praised 
the  fine  turn  of  my  shape,  my  air,  the  beauty 
of  my  complexion,  and  the  brightness  of  my 
light  hair.  I  had  a  conspicuous  seat  in  the 
middle  of  the  ball-room,  with  the  young  King 
of  France  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  at  my  feet 
T  did  not  feel  the  least  embarrassed,  for,  as  I  had 
an  idea  of  marrying  the  emperor,  I  regarded  the 
Prince  of  Wales  only  as  an  object  of  pity." 

Things  went  on  in  this  way  for  a  time,  until 
at  last  some  political  difficulties  occurred  at  Par- 
is which  broke  in  upon  the  ordinary  routine  of 
the  royal  family,  and  drove  them,  for  a  time,  out 
of  the  city.  Before  these  troubles  were  over, 
Henrietta  and  her  son  were  struck  down,  as  by 
a  blow,  by  the  tidings,  which  came  upon  them 
like  a  thunderbolt,  that  their  husband  and  fa- 
ther had  been  beheaded.  This  dreadful  event 
put  a  stop  for  a  time  to  every  thing  like  festive 
pleasures.  The  queen  left  her  children,  her 
pEilaoe,  and  all  the  gay  circle  of  her  firiends,  and 
retired  to  a  convent,  to  mourn,  in  solitade  and 
andistiirbed,  her  irreparable  lom. 


112  Kino  Charles  11.  [1619 

CharlM  becomes  king.  HeoilelU'i  dl«tre— 


Chapter   VI. 
Negotiations  with  Anne  Maria. 

OUR  Prince  Charles  now  becomes,  by  the 
death  of  his  father,  King  Charles  the  Sec- 
ond, both  of  England  and  cf  Scotland.  That 
is,  he  becomes  so  in  theory,  according  to  the 
principles  of  the  English  Constitution,  though, 
in  fact,  he  is  a  fugitive  and  an  exile  still.  Not- 
withstanding his  exclusion,  however,  from  the 
exercise  of  what  he  considered  his  right  to  reign, 
he  was  acknowledged  as  king  by  all  true  Roy- 
alists in  England,  and  by  all  the  continenta. 
powers.  They  would  not  aid  him  to  recover 
his  throne,  but  in  the  courts  and  royal  palaces 
which  he  visited  he  was  regarded  as  a  king,  and 
was  treated,  in  form  at  least,  with  all  the  con- 
sideration and  honor  which  belonged  to  royalty. 
Queen  Henrietta  was  overwhelmed  with  grief 
and  despair  when  she  learned  the  dreadful  tid- 
ings of  the  execution  of  her  husband.  At  the 
time  when  these  tidings  came  to  her,  she  was 
lavolved,  also,  in  many  other  sufferings  and  tn- 
ftls     As  was  intimated  in  the  last  chapter,  se- 


1649.J  A.MNE    Maria.  11J> 

DUBonltlM  In  ParU.  Flight  of  the  loyal  ikmlly 

rious  difficulties  had  occurred  between  the  roy- 
al family  of  France  and  the  government  and 
people  of  the  city  of  Paris,  from  which  a  sort 
of  insurrection  had  resulted,  and  the  young  king 
and  his  mother,  together  with  all  the  principal 
personages  of  the  court,  had  been  compelled  to 
fly  from  the  city,  in  the  night,  to  save  their  lives. 
They  went  in  a  train  of  twenty  or  thirty  car- 
riages, by  torch-light,  having  kept  their  plan  & 
profound  secret  tmtil  the  moment  of  their  de- 
parture. The  young  king  was  asleep  in  hiv 
bed  until  the  time  arrived,  when  they  took  him 
up  and  put  him  into  the  carriage.  Anne  Maria, 
whose  rank  and  wealth  gave  her  a  great  deai 
of  influence  and  power,  took  sides,  in  some  de- 
gree, with  the  Pari^ans  in  t-his  contest,  so  that 
oer  aunt,  the  queen  regent,  considered  her  a» 
an  enemy  rather  than  a  friend.  She,  however 
took  her  with  them  in  their  flight ;  but  Anne 
Maria,  being  very  much  out  Df  humor,  did  all 
she  could  to  tease  and  torment  the  party  all  th© 
way.  When  they  awoke  her  and  informed  hef 
of  their  proposed  escape  from  Paris,  she  was,  as 
•he  says  in  her  memoirs,  very  much  delighted. 
for  she  knew  that  the  movement  was  very  un- 
wise, and  would  get  her  aunt,  the  queen  regent, 
and  all  their  friends,  into  serious  difficultiea 
23—8 


114  KiM»  Cbarlbb  II.  [1649. 

Amm  MvU'a  m  hanior.  Her  praTkriestlaik 

She  dressed  herself  as  qniok  as  she  could,  oamc 
down  stairs,  and  proceeded  to  enter  the  queen 
regent's  coach,  saying  that  she  wanted  to  have 
one  or  the  other  of  certain  seats — ^naming  the 
best  places — sis  she  had  no  idea,  she  said,  of  be- 
ing exposed  to  cold,  or  riding  uncomfortably  on 
such  a  night.  The  queen  told  her  that  those 
seats  were  for  herself  and  another  lady  of  high 
rank  who  was  with  her,  to  which  Anne  Maria 
replied,  "  Oh,  very  well ;  I  suppose  young  la- 
dies ought  to  give  up  to  old  people." 

In  the  course  of  conversation,  as  they  were 
preparing  to  ride  away,  the  queen  asked  Anna 
Maria  if  she  was  not  surprised  at  being  called 
up  to  go  on  such  an  expedition.  "  Oh  no,"  said 
she ;  "  my  father"  (that  is,  Gaston,  the  duke  of 
Orleans)  "told  me  all  about  it  beforehand." 
This  was  not  true,  as  she  says  herself  in  hei 
own  account  of  these  transactions.  She  knew 
nothing  about  the  plan  until  she  was  called  from 
her  bed.  She  said  this,  therefore,  only  to  tease 
her  aunt  by  the  false  pretension  that  the  secret 
had  been  confided  to  her.  Her  aunt,  however, 
did  not  believe  her,  and  said,  "  Then  why  did 
you  go  to  bed,  if  you  knew  what  was  going  on  ?" 
"  Oh,"  replied  Anne  Maria,  "  I  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  to  get  «'Dme  sleep,  as  T  did  not 


1649]  AwiiE   Maria.  U7 

Terror  and  confiuloa.  Andrtl  of  the  royal  funil j  at  8t  Ctarmaia'K 

Know  whether  I  should  even  have  a  bed  to  lie 
apon  to-morrow  night." 

The  party  of  fugitives  exhibited  a  scene  of 
great  terror  and  oonfusian,  as  they  were  as 
sembling  and  crowding  into  their  carriages,  be- 
fore they  left  the  court  of  the  Palais  Royal.  It 
was  past  midnight,  in  the  month  of  January, 
and  there  was  no  moon.  Called  up  suddenly  aa 
they  were  from  their  beds,  and  frightened  with 
imaginary  dangers,  they  all  pressed  forward, 
eager  to  go ;  and  so  hurried  was  their  departure, 
that  they  took  with  them  very  scanty  supplies, 
even  for  their  most  ordinary  wants.  At  length 
they  drove  away.  They  passed  rapidly  out  of 
the  city.  They  proceeded  to  an  ancient  palace 
and  castle  called  St.  Germain's,  about  ten  miles 
northeast  of  Paris.  Anne  Maria  amused  her- 
self with  the  fears,  and  difficulties,  and  priva- 
tions which  the  others  suffered,  and  she  gives  an 
account  of  the  first  night  they  spent  in  the  place 
ef  their  retreat,  which,  as  it  illustrates  her  temi- 
perament  and  character,  the  reader  will  like, 
perhaps,  to  see. 

"  I  slept  in  a  very  handsome  ro<Mn,  well  paint- 
edf  well  gilded,  and  large,  with  very  little  fire, 
•nd  no  windows,*  which  is  not  very  agreeabis 

*  ThaX  ia,  with  no  (Ibm  to  the  windowa 


118  Kino  Charles  XL  [1649 

bMMiranianoM  and  prlTatlona  «f  tfa«  party  at  St  OaiaMla^t. 

In  the  month  of  Janntiry. "  I  slept  on  mattresa- 
Bs,  which  were  laid  upon  the  floor,  and  my  sis- 
ter, who  had  no  bed,  slept  with  me.  I  wa4 
obliged  to  sing  to  get  her  to  sleep,  and  then  her 
slumber  did  not  last  long,  so  that  she  disturbed 
mine.  She  tossed  about,  felt  me  near  her,  woke 
up,  and  exclaimed  that  she  saw  the  beast,  so  I 
was  obliged  to  sing  again  to  put  her  to  sleep, 
and  in  that  way  I  passed  the  night.  Judge 
whether  this  was  an  agreeable  situation  for  one 
who  had  had  little  or  no  sleep  the  night  before, 
and  who  had  been  ill  all  winter  with  colds. 
However,  the  fatigue  and  exposure  of  this  ex- 
pedition cured  me 

"  In  a  short  time  my  father  gave  me  his  room, 
but  as  nobody  knew  I  was  there,  I  was  awoke 
in  the  night  by  a  noise.  I  drew  back  my  cur- 
tain, and  was  astonished  to  find  my  chamber 
filled  with  men  in  large  buff  skin  collars,  and 
who  appeared  surprised  to  see  me,  and  knew 
me  as  little  as  I  did  them.  I  had  no  change  of 
linen,  and  when  I  wanted  any  thing  washed,  it 
was  done  in  the  night,  while  I  was  in  bed.  I 
had  no  women  to  arrange  my  hair  and  dress  me, 
vrhiuh  is  very  inconvenient.  Still  I  did  not  lose 
my  gayety,  and  they  were  in  admiration  at  my 
making  no  complaint :  and  it  is  true  that  I  am 


1649.J  Ann E    Maria.  119 

AaiM  Maria's  adTenturaa.  Her  courage  and  enargy. 

a  oreatare  that  can  make  the  most  of  every 
thing,  and  am  greatly  above  trifles." 

To  feel  any  commiseration  for  this  young 
lady,  on  aooount  of  the  alarm  which  she  may 
be  supposed  to  have  experienced  at  seeing  all 
those  strange  men  in  her  chamber,  would  be 
sympathy  thrown  away,  for  her  nerves  were  not 
of  a  sensibility  to  be  affected  much  by  such  a 
circumstance  eis  that.  In  fact,  as  the  difficult- 
ies between  the  young  king's  government  and 
the  Parisians  increased,  Anne  Maria  played 
quite  the  part  of  a  heroine.  She  went  back 
and  forth  to  Paris  in  her  carriage,  through  th« 
mob,  when  nobody  else  dared  to  go.  She  some- 
times headed  troops,  and  escorted  ladies  and 
gentlemen  when  they  were  afraid  to  go  alone. 
Once  she  relieved  a  town,  and  once  she  took  the 
command  of  the  cannon  of  the  Bastile,  and  is- 
sued her  orders  to  fire  with  it  upon  the  troops, 
with  a  composure  which  would  have  done  honor 
to  any  veteran  officer  of  artillery.  We  can  not 
go  into  all  these  things  here  ui  detail,  as  they 
would  lead  us  too  far  away  from  the  subject  of 
this  narrative.  We  only  allude  to  them,  to  give 
our  readers  some  distinct  idea  of  the  tempera- 
ment and  character  of  the  rich  and  blooming 
beauty  whom  young  King  Charles  was  wishing 
»  ardently  to  make  his  bride. 


120  Kino  Cmarles  II.  [1649 

flltaaflon  of  Henrietta.  Her  destitution  and  dan|«n. 

During  the  time  that  these  difRcuities  con- 
tinued in  Paris,  Queen  Henrietta's  situation 
was  extremely  unhappy.  She  was  shut  up  in 
the  palace  of  the  Louvre,  which  became  now 
her  prison  rather  than  her  home.  She  was  sep- 
arated from  the  royal  family^  her  son,  the  king, 
was  generally  absent  in  Holland  or  in  Jersey, 
and  her  palace  was  often  surrounded  by  mobs ; 
whenever  she  ventured  out  in  her  carriage,  she 
was  threatened  with  violence  and  outrage  by 
the  populace  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  her 
retreat  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  protection  of 
the  palace  walls.  Her  pecuniary  means,  too, 
were  exhausted.  She  sold  her  jewels,  from 
time  to  time,  as  long  as  they  lasted,  and  then 
contracted  debts  which  her  creditors  were  con- 
tinually  pressing  her  to  pay.  Her  friends  at  St 
Germain's  could  not  help  her  otherwise  than  by 
asking  her  to  come  to  them.  This  she  at  last 
concluded  to  do,  and  she  made  her  escape  from 
Paris,  under  the  escort  of  Anne  Maria,  who 
came  to  the  city  for  the  purpose  of  conducting 
her,  and  who  succeeded,  though  with  infinite 
difficulty,  in  securing  a  safe  passage  for  Henri- 
etta through  the  crowds  of  creditors  and  politi- 
oal  foes  who  threatened  to  prevent  her  journey. 
These  troubles  were  all,  however,  at  last  settled. 


1649.J  Anne   Maria.  121 

ClurlM's  plant  tar  regalninc  hi*  Mngdom,  The  Ea^ lUh  ■tU— 

and  in  the  autumn  (1649)  the  whole  party  re 
turned  again  to  Paris. 

In  the  mean  time  the  young  King  Charles 
was  oontriving  schemes  for  getting  possession 
of  his  realm.  It  will  be  recollected  that  his  sis- 
tei  Mary,  who  married  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
was  at  this  time  residing  at  the  Hague,  a  city 
in  Holland,  near  the  sea.  Charles  went  often 
there.  It  was  a  sort  of  rendezvous  for  those 
who  had  been  obliged  to  leave  England  on  ac- 
count of  their  attachment  to  his  father's  for- 
tunes, and  who,  now  that  the  father  was  dead, 
transferred  their  loyalty  to  the  son.  They  felt 
a  very  strong  desire  that  Charles's  plans  for  get- 
ting possession  of  his  kingdom  should  succeed, 
and  they  were  willing  to  do  every  thing  in  their 
power  to  promote  his  success.  It  must  not  be 
supposed,  however,  that  they  were  governed  in 
this  by  a  disinterested  principle  of  fidelity  to 
Charles  himself  personally,  or  to  the  justice  of  his 
cause.  Their  own  re-establishment  in  wealth 
and  power  was  at  stake  as  well  as  his,  and  they 
were  ready  to  make  common  cause  with  him, 
knowing  that  they  could  save  themselves  firom 
ruin  only  by  reinstating  him. 

Charles  had  his  privy  council  and  a  sort  of 
ooart  at  the  Hague,  and  he  ajrran|[ed  channelt 


122  Kim©  Charles  II.  [1049 

ChmiM  at  tfafl  Hagna  wd  at  Jeney.  Anne  Maria 

of  oommnnioation,  centering  there,  for  oolleoting 
intelligence  from  England  and  Scotland,  and 
through  these  he  watched  in  every  way  for  the 
opening  of  an  opportunity  to  assert  his  rights  to 
the  British  crown.  He  went,  too,  to  Jersey, 
where  the  authorities  and  the  inhabitants  were 
on  his  side,  and  both  there  and  at  the  Hague 
he  busied  himself  with  plans  for  raising  funds 
and  levying  troops,  and  securing  co-operation 
from  those  of  the  people  of  England  who  still 
remained  loyal.  Ireland  was  generally  in  his 
favor  too,  and  he  seriously  meditated  an  expe- 
dition there.  His  mother  was  unwilling  to  have 
him  engage  in  these  schemes.  She  was  afraid 
he  would,  sooner  or  later,  involve  himself  in 
dangers  from  which  he  could  not  extricate  him- 
self, and  that  he  would  end  by  being  plunged 
into  the  same  pit  of  destruction  that  had  in- 
gulfed his  father. 

Amid  all  these  political  schemes,  however, 
Charles  did  not  forget  Anne  Maria.  He  was 
eager  to  secure  her  for  his  bride ;  for  her  for- 
tune, and  the  power  and  influence  of  her  con- 
nections, would  aid  him  very  much  in  recover- 
ing his  throne.  Her  hope  of  marrying  the  Em- 
peror of  Germany,  too,  was  gone,  for  that  poten- 
tate had  chosen  another  wife.     Charles  there 


1649.J  Ahne    Maria.  123 

Anne  Maria  discontented.  Charlet's  meiMngai 

fore  continued  his  attentions  to  the  young  lady. 
She  would  not  give  him  any  distinct  and  deoi- 
Bive  answer,  but  kept  the  subject  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  negotiation.  She  was,  in  fact,  grow- 
ing more  and  more  discontented  and  unhappy 
in  disposition  all  the  time.  Her  favorite  plan 
of  marrying  the  emperor  had  been  thwarted,  in 
part,  by  the  difficulties  which  her  friends — her 
father  and  her  aunt  especially — had  contrived 
•eoretly  to  throw  in  the  way,  while  outwardly 
and  ostensibly  they  appeared  to  be  doing  all  in 
their  power  to  promote  her  wishes.  They  did 
not  wish  to  have  her  married  at  all,  as  by  this 
event  the  management  of  her  vast  fortune  would 
pass  out  of  their  hands.  She  discovered  this, 
their  double  dealing,  when  it  was  too  late,  and 
•he  was  overwhelmed  with  vexation  and  chagrin. 

Things  being  in  this  state,  Charles  sent  a  spe- 
cial messenger,  at  one  time,  from  the  Hague, 
with  instructions  to  make  a  formal  proposal  to 
Anne  Maria,  and  to  see  if  he  could  not  bring 
the  affair  to  a  close.  The  name  of  this  messen- 
ger was  Lord  Germain, 

The  queen  regent  and  her  father  urged  Anno 
Maria  now  to  consent  to  the  proposal.  They 
told  her  that  Charles's  prospects  were  brighten- 
ing— that  they  themselves  were  going  to  rendc** 


134  Kino  Charles   II.  [1649 

Lord  0«rsuiB'*  propoML  Aane  Maria  Menu  to  yWd. 

him  powerful  protection — that  he  had  ahready 
acquired  several  allies — that  there  were  whole 
provinces  in  England  that  were  in  his  favor  ; 
and  that  all  Ireland,  which  wa»,  as  it  were,  a 
kingdom  in  itself,  was  on  his  side.  Whether 
they  seriously  desired  that  Anne  Maria  would 
oonsent  to  Charles's  proposals,  or  only  urged, 
for  effect,  what  they  knew  very  well  she  would 
persist  in  refusing,  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain 
If  this  latter  were  their  design,  it  seemed  likely 
to  fiiil,  for  Anne  Maria  appeared  to  yield.  She 
was  sorry,  she  said,  that  the  situation  of  affairs 
in  Paris  wajs  not  such  as  to  allow  of  the  French 
government  giving  Charles  effectual  help  in 
gaining  possession  of  the  throne ;  but  still,  not 
withstanding  that,  she  was  ready  to  do  wha^ 
ever  they  might  think  best  to  command. 

Lord  Germain  then  said  that  he  should  pro 
oeed  directly  to  Holland  and  escort  Charles  tc 
France,  and  he  wanted  Anne  Maria  to  give  him 
a  direct  and  positive  reply;  for  if  she  would 
really  accept  his  proposal,  he  would  come  at 
once  to  court  and  claim  her  as  his  bride ;  other- 
wise he  must  proceed  to  Ireland,  for  the  state 
tti  his  affairs  demanded  his  presence  there.  But 
if  she  would  accept  his  proposal,  he  would  im- 
mediately come  to  Paris,  and  have  the  marriage 


1649.J  Anne    Maria.  125 

rtaa  of  Lord  Gennafai.  Ann*  Marte's  •bJectlotM. 

ceremony  performed,  and  then  he  would  re- 
main afterward  some  days  with  her,  that  she 
might  enjoy  the  honors  and  distinctions  to  which 
•he  wcmld  become  entitled  as  the  queen  con. 
BOTt  of  a  mighty  realm.  He  would  then,  if  she 
liked  the  plan,  take  her  to  Saint  Germain's, 
where  his  mother,  her  aunt,  was  then  residing, 
and  establish  her  there  while  he  was  recover- 
ing his  kingdom;  or,  if  she  preferred  it,  she 
might  take  up  her  residence  in  Paris,  where  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  live. 

To  this  the  young  lady  replied  that  the  Ifiat^ 
mentioned  plan,  tht-t  is,  that  she  should  ocm- 
tinue  to  live  at  Paris  after  being  married  to 
Charles,  was  one  that  she  could  not  think  of. 
8he  should  feel  altogether  unwilling  to  remain 
and  enjoy  the  gayeties  and  festivities  of  Paris 
while  her  husband  was  at  the  head  of  his  armies, 
exposed  to  all  the  dangers  and  privations  of  a 
oamp ;  nor  should  she  consider  it  right  to  go  on 
incurring  the  expenses  which  a  lady  of  her  rank 
and  position  must  necessarily  bear  in  such  a  city, 
wrhile  he  was  perhaps  embarrassed  and  distress- 
ed with  the  difficulties  of  providing  funds  for  his 
own  and  his  followers'  necessities.  She  should 
feel,  in  fact,  bound,  if  she  were  to  become  his 
wife,  to  do  all  in  her  powor  to  assist  him ;  and 


12^  KiNft  Chaelbi  IL  [1649 

Lard  Germala'a  repIlM.  Hi*  nbj«et  reaewad. 

it  would  end,  she  foresaw,  in  her  having  to  dis- 
pose of  all  her  property,  and  expend  the  avails 
in  aiding  him  to  recover  his  kiagdom.  This, 
she  said,  she  confessed  alarmed  her.  It  was  a 
great  sacrifice  for  he^  V)  make,  reared  as  she  had 
been  in  opulence  and  luxury. 

Lord  Germain  replied  that  aU  this  was  doubt- 
less true,  but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  he  would 
venture  to  remind  her  that  there  was  no  other 
suitable  match  for  her  in  Europe.  He  then 
went  on  to  name  the  principal  personages.  The 
Emperor  of  Germany  and  the  King  of  Spain 
were  both  married.  Some  other  monarch  was 
just  about  to  espouse  a  Spanish  princess.  Oth- 
ers whom  he  named  were  too  young;  others, 
again,  too  old;  and  a  certain  prince  whom  he 
mentioned  had  been  married,  he  said,  these  ten 
years,  and  his  wife  was  in  excellent  health,  so 
that  every  species  of  hope  seemed  to  be  out  off 
in  that  quarter. 

This  conversation  leading  to  no  decisive  re- 
sult. Lord  Germain  renewed  the  subject  after 
a  few  days,  and  pressed  Anne  Maria  for  a  final 
answer.  She  said,  now,  that  she  had  a  very 
high  regard  for  Queen  Henrietta,  and,  indeed, 
a  very  strong  affection  for  her ;  so  strong  that 
she  riioold  be  willing  to  waive,  for  Henrietta's 


i649.j  Anne   Maria  127 

Aaoe  Maria  ofejeoti  to  Cfaarles'i  reUglon.        The  negotiatioii  broken  off 

sake,  all  her  objections  to  the  disadvantages  of 
Charles's  position ;  but  there  was  one  objection 
which  she  felt  that  she  could  not  surmount,  and 
that  was  his  religion.  He  was  a  Protestant, 
while  she  was  a  Catholic.  Charles  must  re» 
move  this  difficulty  himself,  which,  if  he  had 
any  regard  for  her,  he  certainly  would  be  willing 
to  do,  since  she  would  have  to  make  so  many 
sacrifices  for  him.  Lord  Germain,  however, 
immediately  discouraged  this  idea.  He  said 
that  the  position  of  Charles  in  respect  to  his 
kingdom  was  such  as  to  render  it  impossible 
for  him  to  change  his  religious  faith.  In  fact, 
if  he  were  to  do  so,  he  would  be  compelled  to 
give  up,  at  once,  all  hope  of  ever  getting  pos- 
session of  his  throne.  Anne  Maria  knew  this 
very  well.  The  plea,  however,  made  an  excel- 
lent excuse  to  defend  herself  with  from  Lord 
Germain's  importunities.  She  adhered  to  it, 
therefore,  pertinaciously;  the  negotiation  was 
broken  off,  and  Lord  Germain  went  away. 

Young  adventurers  like  Charles,  who  wish 
to  marry  great  heiresses,  have  always  to  eier' 
else  a  great  deal  of  patience,  and  to  submit  to 
A  great  many  postponements  and  delays,  even 
though  they  are  successful  in  the  end  ;  and  sov- 
ereign princes  are  not  exfirpted,  any  more  than 


)38  Kino  Charles  IL  [1649 

Vomaa'i  brief  power.  Charle*  Uke*  the  mbject  In  Ub  own  hxadi. 

>ther  men,  from  this  necessity.  Dependent  a» 
woman  is  during  all  the  earlier  and  all  the  later 
years  of  her  life,  and  subjected  as  she  is  to  the 
ayntrol,  and  too  often,  alas !  to  the  caprice  and 
injustice  of  man,  there  is  a  period — brief,  it  is 
true — when  she  is  herself  in  power ;  and  such 
characters  as  Anne  Maria  like  to  exercise  their 
authority,  while  they  feel  that  they  possess  it, 
with  a  pretty  high  hand.  Charles  seems  to 
have  felt  the  necessity  of  submitting  to  the  in- 
convenience of  Anne  Maria's  capricious  delays, 
and,  as  long  as  she  only  continued  to  make  ex- 
cuses and  objections  instead  of  giving  him  a  di- 
rect and  positive  refusal,  he  was  led  to  persevere. 
Accordingly,  not  long  after  the  conversations 
which  his  messenger  had  held  with  the  lady  as 
already  described,  he  determined  to  come  him- 
self to  France,  and  see  if  he  could  not  accom- 
plish something  by  his  own  personal  exertions 
He  accordingly  advanced  to  P^ronne,  which 
was  not  far  from  the  frontier,  and  sent  forward 
R  courier  to  announce  his  approach.  The  royal 
family  concluded  to  go  out  in  their  carriages  to 
meet  him.  They  were  at  this  time  at  a  famona 
royal  resort  a  few  leagues  from  Paris,  called 
Compiegne.  Charles  was  to  dine  at  '^■•mDi- 
egrne,  and  then  to  proceed  on  toward  Paris,  wher* 


1649.1  Anne    Mari^.  129 

n»  TOjtl  family  ride  out  to  meet  Charlea.     Remark  of  tlie  queen  regent 

he  had  business  to  transact  connected  with  hi» 
political  plans. 

Anne  Maria  gives  a  minute  account  of  the 
ride  of  the  royal  family  to  meet  Charles  on  his 
approach  to  Compiegne,  and  of  the  interview 
with  him,  on  her  part,  which  attended  it.  She 
dressed  herself  in  the  morning,  she  says,  with 
great  care,  and  had  her  hair  curled,  which  she 
seldom  did  except  on  very  special  occasions 
When  she  entered  the  carriage  to  go  out  ta 
meet  the  king,  the  queen  regent,  observing  her 
appearance,  said  archly,  "  How  easy  it  is  to  tell 
when  young  ladies  expect  to  meet  theur  lovers." 
Anne  Maria  says  that  she  had  a  great  mind  to 
tell  her,  in  reply,  that  it  was  easy,  for  those  who 
had  had  a  great  deal  of  experience  in  prepar- 
ing  to  meet  lovers  themselves.  She  did  not, 
however,  say  this,  and  the  forbearance  seem^B 
to  show  that  there  was,  after  all,  the  latent  ele- 
ment of  discretion  and  respect  for  superiors  in 
her  character,  though  it  showed  itself  so  seldom 
in  action. 

They  rode  out  several  miles  to  meet  the  com- 
ing king ;  and  when  the  two  parties  met,  they 
all  alighted,  and  saluted  each  other  by  the  road 
side,  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  that  aocompa^ 
nied  them  standing  around.  Anne  Maria  nr* 
2a-^ 


130  Kino  Charlks  11.  [1649 

n*  BMettag  at  Csmplegn*.  Anne  KitrU'i  dUplauara 

tioed  that  Charles  addressed  the  king  and  queen 
regent  first,  and  then  her.  After  a  short  de- 
lay they  got  into  their  carriages  again — King 
Charles  entering  the  carriage  with  their  majes- 
ties and  Anne  Maria — and  they  rode  together 
thus  back  to  Compiegne. 

Anne  Maria,  however,  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  in  a  mood  to  be  pleased.  She  says  that 
Charles  began  to  talk  with  the  king — Louis 
XIV. — who  was  now  twelve  years  old,  about 
the  dogs  and  horses,  and  the  hunting  customs 
in  the  country  of  the  Prince  of  Orange.  He 
talked  on  these  subjects  fluently  enough  in  the 
French  language,  but  when  afterward  the  queen 
regent,  who  would  naturally  be  interested  in  a 
different  class  of  topics,  asked  him  about  the 
affairs  of  his  own  kingdom  and  his  plans  for  re- 
covering it,  he  excused  himself  by  saying  that 
he  did  not  speak  French  well  enough  to  give 
her  the  information.  Anne  Maria  says  she  de- 
termined from  that  moment  not  to  conclude  the 
marriage,  "for  I  conceived  a  very  poor  opinion 
of  him,  being  a  king,  and  at  his  age,  to  have  no 
knowledge  of  his  affairs."  Such  minds  as  Anne 
Maria's  are  seldom  very  logical ;  but  such  an 
inforenoe  as  this,  that  he  was  ignorant  of  his 
own  affairs  because  he  declined  explaining  plans 


1650.]  Aififs  Maeia.  131 

CholM  eit>  BO  ortnlMW  Anaa  MarU's  dUpUMUVi 

whose  snooess  depended  on  secrecy  in  snoh  a 
company  as  that,  and  in  a  langaage  with  which, 
thongh  he  could  talk  abont  dogs  and  horses  in 
it,  he  was  still  very  imperfectly  acquainted,  is 
far  too  great  a  jump  from  premises  to  conclu- 
sion to  be  honestly  made.  It  is  very  evident 
that  Anne  Maria  was  not  disposed  to  be  pleased. 
They  arrived  at  Compiegne.  As  the  king 
was  going  on  that  evening,  dinner  was  served 
soon  after  they  arrived.  Anne  Maria  says  he 
ate  no  ortolans,  a  very  expensive  and  rare  dish  of 
little  birds,  which  had  been  prepared  expressly 
for  this  dinner  in  honor  of  the  royal  guest,*  "  but 
flung  himself  upon  a  piece  of  beef  and  a  shoul- 
der of  mutton,  as  if  there  had  been  nothing  else 
at  table.  After  dinner,  when  we  were  in  the 
drawing-room,  the  queen  amused  herself  with 
the  other  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  left  him 
with  me.  He  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour  with- 
oat  speaking  a  word ;  but  I  am  willing  to  be- 
lieve that  his  silence  was  the  result  of  respect 
rather  than  any  want  of  passion,  though  on  this 

*  The  ortolan  is  a  yerj  noall  bird,  which  is  &ttened  ia 
lanp-lighted  rooms  at  great  expense,  because  it  is  foond  to 
be  of  a  more  delicate  flaror  whea  excluded  from  the  daj- 
Oght.  They  oome  from  the  island  of  Oypros,  and  hare  bee* 
kaoatm  m  vnrj  afe  of  tiM  world  as  aa  artiele  of  rtiyal  lax 


132  Kin**   Oharles  11.  [1650 

Ckarlas't  dlenee.  Departure  (or  Parla. 

oooiwion,  I  frankly  confess,  I  could  have  wished 
it  less  plainly  exhibited.  After  a  while,  getting 
tired  of  his  tediousness,  I  called  another  lady 
to  my  side,  to  see  if  she  could  not  make  him 
talk.  She  succeeded.  Presently  one  of  the 
gentlemen  of  the  party  came  to  me  and  said, 
He  kept  looking  at  you  all  dinner  time,  and  is 
looking  at  you  stiU.  To  which  I  replied.  He 
has  plenty  of  time  to  look  at  me  before  he  will 
please  me,  if  he  does  not  speak.  The  gentle- 
man rejoined,  Oh,  he  has  said  tender  things 
enough  to  you,  no  doubt,  only  you  don't  like  to 
admit  it.  To  which  I  answered,  Come  and 
seat  yourself  by  me  the  next  time  he  is  at  my 
side,  and  hear  for  yourself  how  he  talks  aboi^t 
it."  She  says  she  then  went  and  addressed 
the  king  herself,  asking  him  various  questions 
about  persons  who  were  in  his  suite,  and  that 
he  answered  them  all  with  an  air  of  mere  com- 
mon politeness,  without  any  gallantry  at  aU. 

Finally,  the  hour  for  the  departure  of  Charles 
and  his  party  arrived,  and  the  carriages  came 
to  the  door.  The  French  king,  together  with 
his  mother  and  Anne  Maria,  and  the  usual  at- 
tendants, accompanied  them  some  miles  into 
the  forest  on  their  way,  and  then,  all  alighting, 
as  they  had  done  when  they  met  in  the  morn- 


1050.)  Anne  Maria.  133 

Dm  teawell  In  tfa«  foreat.  Anne  Maria's  aeooont  of  H 

ing,  they  took  leave  of  each  other  with  the  usu- 
al ceremonies  of  such  occasions.  Charles,  aftei 
bidding  King  Louis  farewell,  advanced  with 
Lord  Germain,  who  was  present  in  his  suite  at 
thht  time,  to  Anne  Maria,  and  she  gives  the  fol- 
lowing rather  petulant  account  of  what  passed  : 
"  *  I  believe,'  said  Charles,  '  that  my  Lord  Ger- 
main, who  speaks  French  better  than  I  do,  has 
explained  to  you  my  sentiments  and  my  inten- 
tion. I  am  your  very  obedient  servant.'  I  an- 
■•wered  that  I  was  equally  his  obedient  servant. 
Germain  paid  me  a  great  number  of  compli- 
ments, the-  king  standing  by.  After  they  were 
over,  the  king  bowed  and  departed." 

Charles,  who  had  been  all  his  life  living  rough- 
ly in  camps,  felt  naturally  ill  at  ease  in  the  brill- 
iant scenes  of  ceremony  and  splendor  which  the 
French  court  presented ;  and  this  embarrass- 
ment was  greatly  increased  by  the  haughty  air 
and  manner,  and  the  ill-concealed  raillery  of  tho 
lady  whose  favorable  regard  he  was  so  anxious 
to  secure.  His  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guage, and  his  sense  of  the  gloomy  uncertainty 
of  his  own  prospects  in  life,  tended  strongly  ta 
increase  his  distrust  of  himself  and  his  timidi- 
ty. We  should  have  wished  that  he  could  have 
experienced  somewhat  kinder  treatnent  from 


1J4 

K 

iNe 

C 

HAai.ES 

IL 

[1650 

OkarlM't  modTM. 

A  new 

the  object  of  his  regard,  were  it  not  that  hia 
character,  and  especially  his  subsequent  histo- 
ry, show  that  he  was  entirely  mercenary  and 
selfish  himself  in  seeking  her  hand.  If  we  can 
ever,  in  any  instance,  pardon  the  caprice  and 
wanton  cruelty  of  a  coquette,  it  is  when  these 
qualities  are  exercised  in  thwarting  the  designs 
of  a  heartless  speculator,  who  is  endeavoring  to 
fill  his  coffers  with  money  by  offering  in  ex- 
change for  it  a  mere  worthless  counterfeit  of 
love. 

Charles  seems  to  have  been  totally  discour 
aged  by  the  result  of  this  unfortunate  dinner 
party  at  Compiegne.  He  went  to  Paris,  ana 
from  Paris  he  went  to  St.  Germain's,  where  he 
remained  for  several  months  with  his  mother, 
revolving  in  his  mind  his  fallen  fortunes,  and 
forming  almost  hopeless  schemes  for  seeking  to 
restore  them.  In  the  mean  time,  the  wife  whom 
the  Emperor  of  Germany  had  married  instead 
of  Anne  Maria,  died,  and  the  young  belle  sprang 
immediately  into  the  excitement  of  a  new  hope 
of  attaining  the  great  object  of  her  ambition 
after  all.  The  emperor  was  fifty  years  of  age, 
ftnd  had  four  chOdren,  but  he  was  the  Emper* 
or  of  Germany,  and  that  made  amends  for  all 
Ann*  Maria  immediately  began  to  lay  her  trains 


1650.]  AifNB  Maria.  135 

AiUM  MmtU'i  plana.  Her  fareweD  rlait 

again  for  beooming  his  bride.  What  her  plans 
were,  and  how  they  succeeded,  we  shall,  per- 
haps, have  occasion  hereafter  to  describe. 

Though  her  heart  was  thus  set  upon  having 
the  emperor  for  her  husband,  she  did  not  like, 
in  the  mean  time,  quite  to  give  up  her  younger 
and  more  agreeable  beau.  Besides,  her  plans 
of  marrying  the  emperor  might  fail,  and  Charles 
might  succeed  in  recovering  his  kingdom.  It 
was  best,  therefore,  not  to  bring  the  negotia- 
tion with  him  to  too  absolute  a  close.  When  the 
time  arrived,  therefore,  for  Charles  to  take  his 
departure,  she  thought  she  would  just  ride  out 
to  St.  Germain's  and  pay  her  respects  to  Queen 
Henrietta,  and  bid  the  young  king  good-by. 

Neither  Queen  Henrietta  nor  her  son  at- 
tempted to  renew  the  negotiation  of  his  suite  on 
the  occasion  of  this  visit.  The  queen  told  Anne 
Maria,  on  the  other  hand,  that  she  supposed  she 
ought  to  congratulate  her  on  the  death  of  the 
Empress  of  Germany,  for,  though  the  negotia- 
tion for  her  marriage  with  him  had  failed  on  a 
former  occasion,  she  had  no  doubt  it  would  bo 
resumed  now,  and  would  be  successful.  Anne 
Maria  replied,  with  an  air  of  indifference,  that 
she  did  not  know  or  think  any  thing  about  it 
The  queen  then  said  that  she  knew  of  a  young 


i36  Kino  Charles  II.  [1650 

'HanrletU't  remark*.  A  party. 

man,  not  very  far  from  them,  who  thought  that 
a  king  of  nineteen  years  of  age  was  better  for 
a  husband  than  a  man  of  fifty,  a  widower  with 
four  children,  even  if  he  was  an  emperor. 
"  However,"  said  she,  "  we  do  not  know  what 
turn  things  may  take.  My  son  may  succeed 
in  recovering  his  kingdom,  and  then,  perhaps, 
if  you  should  be  in  a  situation  to  do  so,  you 
may  listen  more  favorably  to  his  addresses." 

Anne  Maria  was  not  to  return  directly  back 
to  Paris.  She  was  going  to  visit  her  sisters, 
who  lived  at  a  little  distance  beyond.  The 
Duke  of  York,  that  is,  Henrietta's  son  James, 
then  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old,  proposed  to 
aooompEmy  her.  She  consented.  Charles  then 
proposed  to  go  too.  Aime  Maria  objected  to 
this,  saying  that  it  was  not  quite  proper.  She 
had  no  objection  to  James's  going,  as  he  was  a 
mere  youth.  Queen  Henrietta  removed  her  ob- 
jection by  offering  to  join  the  party  herself;  so 
they  ail  went  together.  Anne  Maria  says  that 
Charles  treated  her  with  great  politeness  and 
attention  all  the  way,  and  paid  her  many  com- 
pliments, but  made  no  attempt  to  bring  up 
again,  in  any  way,  the  question  of  his  suit. 
She  was  very  glad  he  did  not,  she  says,  for  her 
mind  being  now  occupied  with  the  plan  of  mar- 


1650.]  Annb  Maria.  137 

The  maniagv  broken  np.  Charlea  tare*  to  other  labjeeli. 

rying  the  emperor,  nothing  that  he  oould  have 
said  would  have  done  any  good. 

Thus  the  question  was  considered  as  virtually 
settled,  and  King  Charles,  soon  after,  turned  his 
thoughts  toward  executing  the  plans  which  he 
had  been  long  revolving  for  the  recovery  of  his 
kingdom. 


iy8  Kiifo  Charl£8  il.  [165a 


Chapter  VII. 

The  Royal  Oak  of  Bosoobel. 

TT  was  in  June,  1650,  about  eighteen  month* 
-*-  after  the  decapitation  of  his  father,  that 
Charles  was  ready  to  set  out  on  his  expedition 
to  attempt  the  recovery  of  his  rights  to  the  En- 
glish throne.  He  was  but  twenty  years  of  age. 
He  took  with  him  no  army,  no  supplies,  no  re- 
sources. He  had  a  small  number  of  attendants 
and  followers,  personally  interested  themselves 
in  his  success,  and  animated  also,  probably,  by 
some  degree  of  disLaterested  attachment  to  him. 
It  was,  however,  on  the  whole,  a  desperate  en- 
terprise. Queen  Henrietta,  in  her  retirement 
at  the  Louvre,  felt  very  anxious  about  the  re 
9ult  of  it.  Charles  himself,  too,  notwithstand- 
ing his  own  buoyant  and  sanguine  tempera 
ment,  and  the  natural  confidence  and  hope  per- 
taining to  his  years,  must  have  felt  many  fore- 
bodings. But  his  condition  on  the  Continent 
was  getting  every  month  more  and  more  desti- 
tute and  forlorn.  He  was  a  mere  guest  wherev- 
»r  he  went,  and  destitute  of  means  as  he  was, 


1650.]  Royal  Oak  of  Bobcobel.       139 

ChartM't  fliTM  Ungdonu.  PnbHe  feeling  In  ScotlHuL 

he  found  himself  continually  sinking  in  public 
consideration.  Money  as  well  as  rank  is  very 
essentially  necessary  to  make  a  relative  a  wel- 
come guest,  for  any  long  time,  in  aristocratic 
circles.  Charles  concluded,  therefore,  that,  all 
things  considered,  it  was  best  for  him  to  make 
a  desperate  effort  to  recover  his  kingdoms. 

His  kingdoms  were  three,  England,  Scotland^ 
and  Ireland.  Ireland  was  a  conquered  kingdom. 
Scotland,  like  England,  had  descended  to  him 
from  his  ancestors ;  for  his  grandfather,  James 
VI.,  was  king  of  Scotland,  and  being  on  his 
mother's  side  a  descendant  of  an  English  king, 
he  was,  of  course,  one  of  the  heirs  of  the  English 
crown ;  and  on  the  failure  of  the  other  heirs,  he 
succeeded  to  that  crown,  retaining  still  his  own 
Thus  both  kingdoms  descended  to  Charles. 

It  was  only  the  English  kingdom  that  had 
really  rebelled  against,  and  put  to  death  King 
Charles's  father.  There  had  been  a  great  deal 
of  difficulty  in  Scotland,  it  is  true,  and  the  re- 
publican spirit  had  spread  quite  extensively  in 
that  country.  Still,  affairs  had  not  proceeded 
to  such  extremities  there.  The  Scotch  had,  in 
eome  degree,  joined  with  the  English  in  resisting 
(.^harles  the  First,  but  it  was  not  their  wish  to 
rhrow  off  the  royal  authority  altogether.     They 


140  Kine  Charles  IL  ri65a 

»>—»di  qf  the  Scoteh.  Charle*  land*  In  SoeflMid. 

ftbhorred  episcopacy  in  the  Church,  but  wer« 
well  enough  contented  with  monarchy  in  the 
state.  Accordingly,  soon  after  the  death  of  the 
father,  they  had  opened  negotiations  with  the 
son,  and  had  manifested  their  willingness  to 
acknowledge  him  as  their  king,  on  certain  con- 
ditions which  they  undertook  to  prescribe  to 
him.  It  is  very  hard  for  a  king  to  hold  his 
scepter  on  conditions  prescribed  by  his  people. 
Charles  tried  every  possible  means  to  avoid  sub- 
mitting to  this  necessity.  He  found,  however, 
that  the  only  possible  avenue  of  access  to  En- 
gland was  by  first  getting  some  sort  of  posses- 
sion of  Scotland ;  and  so,  signifying  his  willing- 
ness to  comply  with  the  Scotch  demands,  he  set 
sail  from  Holland  with  his  court,  moved  north 
ward  with  his  little  squadron  over  the  waters- 
of  the  German  Ocean,  and  at  length  made  port 
in  the  Frith  of  Cromarty,  in  the  north  of  Scot- 
land. 

The  Scotch  government,  having  but  little 
faith  in  the  royal  word  of  such  a  youth  as  Charles  » 
would  not  allow  him  to  land  until  he  had  for- 
mally signed  their  covenant,  by  which  he  bound 
himself  to  the  conditions  which  they  had  thought 
it  necessary  to  impose.  He  then  landed.  But 
le  (bund  his  situation  very  far  from  such  a* 


1650.]     Royal  Oak  of  Boscobel.       141 

Megotiatloiif  and  debates.  Charles  crowned  King  of  Scotland. 

eomported  with  his  ideas  of  royal  authority  and 
fltate.     Charles  was  a  gay,  dissipated,  reckless 
young  man.     The  men  whom  he  had  to  deal 
with  were  stern,  sedate,  and  rigid  religionists. 
They  were  scandalized  at  the  looseness  and  ir- 
regularity of  his  character  and  manners.     He 
was  vexed  and  tormented  by  what  he  consider- 
«d  their  ascetic  bigotry,  by  the  restraints  which 
they  were  disposed  to  put  upon  his  conduct,  and 
the  limits  with  which  they  insisted  on  bound- 
ing his  authority.     Long  negotiations  and  de- 
Ibates  ensued,  each  party  becoming  more  and 
more  irritated  against  the  other.     At  last,  on 
one  occasion,  Charles  lost  his  patience  entirely, 
anil  made  his  escape  into  the  mountains,  in  hopes 
to  raise  an  army  there  among  the  clans  of  wild 
Highlanders,  who,  accustomed  from  infancy  to 
the  most  implicit  obedience  to  their  chieftains, 
are  always  very  loyal  to  their  king.    The  Scotch 
nobles,  however,  not  wishing  to  drive  him  to  ex- 
tremities, sent  for  him  to  come  back,  and  bolii 
parties  becoming  after  this  somewhat  more  con- 
siderate and  acxjommodating,  they  at  length 
came  to  an  agreement,  and  proceeding  togpthei 
to  Soone,  a  village  some  miles  north  of  Edin- 
burgh, they  crowned  Charles  King  of  Scotland 
in  a  venerable  abbev  there,  the  ancient  plao* 


142  KiNe  Charles  R.  [1650. 

Oi«aiw«U  marehM  aigalaat  Scotland.  Caarlea  inTadea  ^"g'H^ 

of  coronation  for  all  the  monarohs  of  the  Scot- 
tish line. 

In  the  mean  time,  Cromwell,  who  was  at  the 
head  of  the  republican  government  of  England, 
knowing  very  well  that  Charles's  plan  would  be 
to  march  into  England  as  soon  as  he  could  ma- 
tare  his  arrangements  for  such  an  enterprise, 
determined  to  anticipate  this  design  by  declar- 
ing war  himself  against  Scotland,  and  marching 
an  army  there. 

Charles  felt  comparatively  little  interest  in 
what  became  of  Scotland.  His  aim  was  En- 
gland. He  knew,  or  supposed  that  there  was 
a  very  large  portion  of  the  English  people  who 
•ooretly  favored  his  cause,  and  he  believed  that 
if  he  could  once  cross  the  frontier,  even  with  a 
■mall  army,  these  his  secret  friends  would  all 
rise  at  once  and  flock  to  his  standard.  Still  he 
attempted  for  a  time  to  resist  Cromwell  in  Soot- 
land,  but  without  success.  Cromwell  penetrated 
to  the  heart  of  the  country,  and  actually  passed 
th«  army  of  Charles.  In  these  circumstances, 
Charles  resolved  to  leave  Scotland  to  its  fate, 
and  boldly  to  cross  the  English  frontier,  to  see 
what  he  could  do  by  raising  his  standard  in  his 
•oath^D  kingdom.  The  army  acceded  to  this 
plan  with  acclamations.     The  king  aooordingly 


1651.]     HoYAL  Oak  of  Boscobel        14Z 

PakUc  feeling  in  England.  CaTaUan  and  RoandhM^a 

put  his  forces  in  motion,  crossed  the  frontiei, 
issned  his  manifestoes,  and  sent  around  couriers 
and  heralds,  announcing  to  the  whole  popula- 
tion that  their  king  had  come,  and  summoning 
all  his  subjects  to  arm  themselves  and  hasten 
to  his  aid.  This  was  in  the  summer  of  1651, 
the  year  after  his  lai     ag  in  Scotland. 

It  certainly  was  a  very  bold  and  almost  des- 
perate measure,  and  the  reader,  whether  Mon- 
archist or  Republican,  can  hardly  help  wishing 
the  young  adventurer  success.  The  romantic 
enterprise  was,  however,  destined  to  fail.  The 
people  of  England  were  not  yet  prepared  to  re- 
turn to  royalty.  Some  few  of  the  ancient  noble 
families  and  country  gentlemen  adhered  to  the 
king's  cause,  but  they  came  in  to  join  his  ranks 
very  slowly.  Those  who  were  in  favor  of  the 
king  were  called  Cavaliers.  The  other  party 
were  called  Roundheads.  Queen  Henrietta 
Maria  had  given  them  the  name,  on  account 
of  their  manner  of  wearing  their  hair,  cut  short 
and  close  to  their  heads  all  around,  while  the 
gay  Cavaliers  cultivated  their  locks,  which  hung 
in  long  curls  down  upon  their  shoulders.  The 
Cavaliers,  it  turned  out,  were  few,  while  the 
Roundheads  fiUed  the  land. 

It  was,  however,  impossible  for  Charlee  U 


144  King  Charles  II.  [1651 

CramwBll  foUowi  CharlM.  Seeae*  of  confnaioB  and  wUerf 

retreat,  since  Cromwell  was  behind  him;  for 
Cromwell,  as  soon  as  he  found  that  his  enemy 
had  actually  gone  into  England,  paused  only 
long  enough  to  recover  from  his  surprise,  and 
then  made  all  haste  to  follow  him.  The  two 
armies  thus  moved  down  through  the  very  heart 
of  England,  carrying  every  where,  as  they  went, 
universal  terror,  confusion,  and  dismay.  The 
whole  country  was  thrown  into  extreme  excite- 
ment. Every  body  was  called  upon  to  take 
sides,  and  thousands  were  perplexed  and  unde- 
cided which  side  to  take.  Families  were  di- 
vided, brothers  separated,  fathers  and  sons  were 
ready  to  fight  each  other  in  their  insane  zeal, 
the  latter  for  the  Parliament,  the  former  for  the 
king.  The  whole  country  was  filled  with  ru- 
mors, messengers,  parties  of  soldiers  going  to 
and  fro,  and  troops  of  horsemen,  with  robberies, 
plunderings,  murders,  and  other  deeds  of  vio- 
lence Mdthout  number,  and  all  the  other  ele- 
ments of  confusion  and  misery  which  arouse  the 
whole  population  of  a  country  to  terror  and  dis- 
tress, and  mar  the  very  face  of  nature  in  time 
of  civil  war.  What  dreadfcd  struggles  man 
irill  make  to  gain  the  pleasure  of  ruling  his  fel- 
low-man ! 

Along  the  firontiers  of  England  and  Wales 


1651.]    Royal  Oak  of  Eoscobel.        147 

Tte  Hirer  BeTem.  Situation  of  WorcMter. 

there  flows  the  beautiful  River  Severn,  which 
widens  majestically  at  its  mouth,  and  passes 
by  the  Bristol  Channel  to  the  sea.  One  of  the 
largest  towns  upon  this  river  is  "Worcester.  It 
was  in  those  days  strongly  fortified.  It  stands 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river,  with  a  great 
bridge  opposite  one  of  the  gates  leading  across 
the  Severn  in  the  direction  toward  Wales. 
There  are  other  bridges  on  the  stream,  both 
above  and  below,  and  many  towns  and  villages 
in  the  vicinity,  the  whole  presenting,  at  ordinary 
times,  a  delightful  scene  of  industry  and  peace 
Worcester  is,  perhaps,  three  hundred  miles 
from  the  frontiers  of  Scotland,  on  the  way  to 
London,  though  somewhat  to  the  westward  of 
the  direct  route.  Charles's  destination  was  the 
capital.  He  pushed  on,  notwithstanding  the 
difficulties  and  disappointments  which  embar- 
rassed his  march,  until  at  last,  when  he  reached 
the  banks  of  the  Severn,  he  found  he  could  go 
no  further.  His  troops  and  his  officers  were 
wearied,  faint,  and  discouraged.  His  hopes  had 
not  been  realized,  and  while  it  was  obviously 
dangerous  to  stop,  it  seemed  still  more  danger- 
ous to  go  on.  However,  as  the  authorities  of 
Worcester  were  disposed  to  take  sides  with  the 
king,  Charles  determined  to  stop  there  for  a  lit 


148  Kino  Charles   II.  J1651. 

Charles  proclaimed  king.  Skirmlehea  with  Cromwell'i  foree* 

tie  time,  at  all  events,  to  refresh  his  army,  and 
consider  what  to  do. 

He  was  received  in  the  city  with  all  due  hen 
♦HTS.  He  was  proclaimed  king  on  the  following 
day,  with  great  parade  and  loud  acolamation& 
He  established  a  camp  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  city.  He  issued  great  proclamations,  call- 
ing upon  all  the  people  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try to  come  and  espouse  his  cause.  He  estab- 
lished his  court,  organized  his  privy  council, 
and,  in  a  word,  perfected,  on  a  somewhat  hum- 
ble scale  it  is  true,  all  the  arrangements  proper 
to  the  condition  of  a  monarch  in  his  capital 
He  began,  perhaps,  in  fact,  to  imagine  himself 
reaUy  a  king.  If  he  did  so,  however,  the  illu- 
sion was  soon  dispelled.  In  one  short  week 
Cromwell's  army  came  on,  filling  all  the  ave- 
nues of  approach  to  the  city,  and  exhibiting  a 
force  far  too  great,  apparently,  either  for  Charles 
to  meet  in  battle,  or  to  defend  himself  from  in 
&  siege. 

Charles's  forces  fought  several  preliminary 
battles  and  skirmishes  in  resisting  the  attempts 
of  Cromwell's  columns  to  get  possession  of  the 
bridges  and  fords  by  which  they  were  to  cross 
the  river.  These  contests  resulted  always  in 
the  same  way.    The  detachments  which  (Charles 


1651.]   RovAL  Oak  of  Boscobel.        149 

rhr  great  battle.  Charlea  defeated 

had  sent  forward  to  defend  these  ooints  were 
one  after  another  driven  in,  while  Charles,  with 
his  council  of  war  around  him,  watched  from 
the  top  of  the  tower  of  a  church  within  the  city 
this  gradual  and  irresistible  advance  of  his  de- 
termined enemy,  with  an  anxiety  which  grad- 
ually deepened  into  dismay. 

The  king,  finding  his  situation  now  desperate, 
determined  to  make  one  final  attempt  to  retrieve 
his  fallen  fortunes.  He  formed  his  troops  in 
array,  and  marched  out  to  give  the  advancing 
army  battle.  He  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
troop  of  Highlanders,  and  fought  in  person  Nvith 
the  courage  and  recklessness  of  despair.  The 
officers  knew  full  well  that  it  was  a  question 
of  victory  or  death ,  for  if  they  did  not  conquer, 
they  must  die,  either  by  wounds  on  the  field  of 
battle,  or  else,  if  taken  prisoners,  by  being  hung 
as  traitors,  or  beheaded  in  the  Tower.  All 
possibility  of  escape,  entrapped  and  surrounded 
as  they  were  in  the  very  heart  of  the  country, 
hundreds  of  miles  from  the  frontiers,  seemed 
utterly  hopeless.  They  fought,  therefore,  with 
reckless  and  desperate  fury,  but  all  was  in  vain. 
They  were  repulsed  and  driven  in  on  all  sides, 
and  the  soldiers  fled  at  length,  carrying  the  of- 
ficers with  them,  in  tumult  and  disorder,  back 
through  the  gates  into  the  citv 


160  Kino  Charles  11.  [1651 

CharlM  retreata.  He  attempta  to  rally  hi*  foroaa. 

An  army  flying  in  confusion  to  seek  refuge 
in  a  city  can  not  shut  the  gates  behind  them 
against  their  pursuers.     In  fact,  in  such  a  scene 
of  terror  and  dismay,  there  is  no  order,  no  obedi- 
ence, no  composure.    At  the  gate  where  Charles 
endeavored  to  get  back  into  the  city,  he  found 
the  way  choked  up  by  a  heavy  ammunition  cart 
which  had  been  entangled  there,  one  of  the  oxen 
that  had  been  drawing  it  being  killed.     The 
throngs  of  men  and  horsemen  were  stopped  by 
this  disaster.     The  king  dismounted,  abandoned 
his  horse,  and  made  his  way  through  and  over 
the  obstruction  as  he  could.     When  he  got  into 
the  city,  he  found  all  in  confusion  there.     Hip 
men  were  throwing  away  their  arms,  and  press- 
ing onward  in  their  flight.     He  lightened  his 
own  burdens  by  laying  aside  the  heaviest  of  his 
armor,  procured  another  horse,  and  rode  up  and 
down  among  his  men,  urging  and  entreating 
them  to  form  again  and  face  the  enemy.     He 
olead  the  justice  of  his  cause,  their  duty  to  be 
(aithful  to  their  rightful  sovereign,  and  every 
piher  argument  which  was  capable  of  being  ex- 
pressed  in  the  shouts  and  vociferations  which, 
in  such  a  scene,  constitute  the  only  kind  of 
communication   possible   with    panic-stricken 
men :  and  when  he  found  that  all  was  in  vain 


1651,]   Royal  Oak  of   Bosoobel.        151 

ni0  rooL  Chailea  eteapea  from  the  city 

he  said,  in  despair,  that  he  would  rather  they 
would  shoot  him  on  the  spot  than  let  him  live 
to  witness  such  an  abandonment  of  his  causa 
by  the  only  friends  and  followers  that  had  been 
Left  to  him. 

The  powerful  influence  which  these  expostu- 
lations would  otherwise  have  had,  was  lost  and 
overborne  in  the  torrent  of  confusion  and  terror 
which  was  spreading  through  all  the  streets  of 
the  city.  The  army  of  Cromwell  forced  their 
passage  in,  and  fought  their  way  from  street  to 
street,  wherever  they  found  any  remaining  re- 
sistance. Some  of  the  king's  troops  were 
hemmed  up  in  corners,  and  cut  to  pieces.  Oth- 
ers, somewhat  more  fortunate,  sought  protec- 
tion in  towerj  and  bastions,  where  they  could 
make  some  sort  of  conditions  with  their  victo- 
rious enemy  before  surrendering.  Charles  him- 
self, finding  that  all  was  lost,  made  his  escape 
at  last  from  the  city,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  horse.  He  could 
not,  however,  endure  the  thought  of  giving  up 
the  contest,  after  all.  Again  and  again,  as  he 
slowly  retreated,  he  stopped  to  face  about,  and 
to  urge  his  men  to  consent  to  turn  back  again 
»nd  encounter  the  enemy.  Their  last  halt  waa 
upon  a  bridge  half  a  mile  from  the  city      Here 


L52  King  Charles  XL  [1651. 

CharlM  hoId«  a  conBtdtaticm.  EDa  faUowen 

the  king  hold  a  ooneultation  with  the  few  re- 
maining counselors  and  officers  that  were  witb 
him,  surveying,  with  them,  the  routed  and  fly- 
ing bodies  of  men,  who  were  now  throwing  awaj 
their  arms  and  dispersing  in  all  directions,  in  a 
state  of  hopeless  disorganization  and  despair. 
The  king  saw  plainly  that  his  cause  was  irre- 
trievably ruined,  and  they  aU  agreed  that  noth- 
ing  now  remained  for  them  but  to  make  their 
escape  back  to  Scotland,  if  by  any  possibility 
that  could  now  be  done. 

But  how  should  they  accomplish  this  end? 
To  follow  the  multitude  of  defeated  soldiers 
would  be  to  share  the  certain  capture  and  death 
which  awaited  them,  and  they  were  themselves 
all  strangers  to  the  country.  To  go  on  inquiring 
all  the  way  would  only  expose  them  to  equally 
certain  discovery  and  capture.  The  first  thing, 
however,  obviously  was  to  get  away  from  the 
crowd.  Charles  and  his  attendants,  therefore, 
turned  aside  from  the  high  road — there  were 
with  the  king  fifty  or  sixty  officers  and  noble- 
men, all  mounted  men — and  moved  along  in 
(suoh  secluded  by-paths  as  they  could  find.  The 
king  wished  t.:  diminish  even  this  number  of 
followers,  but  he  could  not  get  any  of  them  to 
leave  him.     He  complained  afterward,  in  the 


1651.]    Royal  Oak  of   Boscobel.        153 

TbiB  guide*  The  party  get  loat 

aooount  which  he  gave  of  these  adventures, 
that,  though  they  would  not  fight  for  him  when 
battle  was  to  be  given,  he  could  not  get  rid  of 
them  when  the  time  came  for  flight. 

There  was  a  servant  of  one  of  the  gentlemen 
in  the  company  who  pretended  to  know  the  way, 
and  he  accordingly  undertook  to  guide  the  par- 
t)' ;  but  as  soon  as  it  became  dark  he  got  con- 
fused and  lost,  and  did  not  know  what  to  do. 
They  contrived,  however,  to  get  another  guide 
They  went  ten  miles,  attracting  no  particular 
attention,  for  at  such  a  time  of  civil  war  a  coun- 
try is  full  of  parties  of  men,  armed  and  un- 
armed, going  to  and  fro,  who  are  allowed  gen- 
erally to  move  without  molestation,  as  the  in- 
habitants are  only  anxious  to  have  as  little  as 
possible  to  say  to  them,  that  they  may  the  soon- 
er be  gone.  The  royal  party  assumed  the  air 
and  manner  of  one  of  these  bands  as  long  as 
daylight  lasted,  and  when  that  was  gone  they 
went  more  securely  and  at  their  ease.  After 
proceeding  ten  miles,  they  stopped  at  an  ob- 
scure inn,  where  they  took  some  drink  and  * 
little  bread,  and  then  resumed  their  journey, 
consulting  with  one  another  as  they  went  as 
to  what  it  was  best  to  do. 

A.bout  ten  or  twelve  miles  further  on  there 


154  KivB  Charles  IL  [1651 


Sttnattaa  of  BoMobeL  FtaoM  of  raAifB 

was  a  somewhat  wild  and  sequestered  region, 
in  which  there  were  two  very  secluded  dwell- 
ings,  about  half  a  mile  from  each  other.  One 
of  these  residences  was  named  Boscobel.  The 
name  had  been  given  to  it  by  a  guest  of  the  pro- 
prietor, at  an  entertainment  which  the  latter 
had  given,  from  the  Italian  words  bosco  bellOj 
which  mean  beautiful  grove.  It  was  in  or  near 
a  wood,  and  away  from  all  high  roads,  having 
been  buUt,  probably,  like  many  other  of  the 
dwellings  reared  in  those  days,  as  a  place  of  re- 
treat. In  the  preceding  reigns  of  Charles  and 
Elizabeth,  the  Catholics,  who  were  called  po- 
pish  recusants,  on  account  of  their  refusing"  to 
take  an  oath  acknowledging  the  supremacy  of 
the  British  sovereign  over  the  English  Church, 
had  to  resort  to  all  possible  modes  of  escape 
from  Protestant  persecution.  They  built  these 
retreats  in  retired  and  secluded  places,  and 
constructed  all  sorts  of  concealed  and  secure 
hiding-places  within  them,  in  the  partitions  and 
walls,  where  men  whose  lives  were  in  danger 
might  be  concealed  for  many  days.  Boscobel 
was  such  a  mansion.  In  fact,  one  of  the  king's 
generals,  the  Earl  of  Derby,  had  been  concealed 
in  it  but  a  short  time  before.  The  king  in- 
quired particularly  about  it,  and  was  induced 
himiself  to  seek  refuse  therf- 


1651.]     Royal  Oak  of  Boscobel.       155 

Tfc«  Wkite  Ladies'  Conremt,  The  Pesnderela. 

This  house  belonged  to  a  family  of  GifFards, 
one  of  whom  was  in  the  suite  of  King  Charles 
at  this  time.  There  was  another  mansion 
about  .half  a  mile  distant.  This  other  plaoe 
had  been  originally,  in  the  Catholic  days,  a  con- 
vent, and  the  nuns  who  inhabited  it  dressed  ia 
white.  They  were  called,  accordingly,  the  white 
ladies,  and  the  place  itself  received  the  same 
name,  which  it  retained  after  the  sisters  wero 
gone.  Mr.  Giffard  recommended  going  to  the 
White  Ladies'  first.  He  wanted,  in  fact,  to  con- 
trive some  way  to  relieve  the  king  of  the  en- 
oambrance  of  so  large  a  troop  before  going  to 
Boscobel. 

They  went,  accordingly,  to  the  White  Ladies'. 
Neither  of  the  houses  was  occupied  at  this  time 
by  the  proprietors,  but  were  in  charge  of  house- 
keepers and  servants.  Among  the  tenants  upon 
the  estate  there  were  several  brothers  of  the 
name  of  Penderel.  They  were  woodmen  and 
farm  servants,  living  at  different  places  in  th« 
neighborhood,  and  having  charge,  some  of  them, 
of  the  houses  above  described.  One  of  the  Pen- 
derels  was  at  the  White  Ladies'.  He  let  the 
fugitives  in,  tired,  exhausted,  and  hungry  as 
they  were,  vsith  the  fatigue  of  marching  nearly 
aU  the  night.     They  sent  inunediately  for  Rich- 


156  King   Charles  IL  [1651 

Disguise  of  the  king.  Dlsposnl  of  the  SeweliL 

ard  Penderel,  who  lived  in  a  farm-house  near 
by,  aiid  for  another  brother,  who  was  at  Bosco- 
bel.  They  took  the  king  into  an  inner  room, 
and  immediately  commenced  the  work  of  effeot- 
aally  disguising  him. 

They  gave  him  clothes  belonging  to  some  of 
the  servants  of  the  family,  and  destroyed  his 
own.  The  king  had  about  his  person  a  watch 
and  some  costly  decorations,  such  as  orders  of 
knighthood  set  in  jewels,  which  would  betray 
his  rank  if  found  in  his  possession.  These  the 
king  distributed  among  his  friends,  intrustiag 
them  to  the  charge  of  such  as  he  judged  most 
likely  to  effect  their  escape.  They  then  cut  off 
his  hair  short  all  over,  thus  making  him  a 
Roundhead  instead  of  a  Cavalier.  They  rubbed 
soot  from  the  fire-place  over  hL««  face,  to  change 
the  expression  of  his  features  and  complexion. 
They  gave  him  thus,  in  all  respects,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  the  guise  of  a  squalid  peasant  and 
laborer  of  the  humblest  class,  accustomed  to 
the  privations  and  to  the  habits  of  poverty. 

In  the  mean  time  Richard  Penderel  arrived. 
Perhaps  an  intimation  had  been  given  him  of 
the  wishes  of  the  king  to  be  relieved  of  his  com- 
pany of  followers;  at  any  rate,  he  urged  the 
whole  retinue,  as  soon  as  he  came  to  the  house 


1651.]    Royal  Oak  op  Boscobel.        157 

Clurlei  aeparates  from  his  followers.  His  eoncealment. 

to  press  forward  without  any  delay,  as  there 
was  a  detachment  of  Cromwell's  forces,  he  said, 
at  three  miles'  distance,  who  might  be  expected 
at  any  moment  to  come  in  pursuit  of  them 
Giffard  brought  Penderel  then  into  the  inner 
room  to  which  the  king  had  retired.  "  This  is 
the  king,"  said  he.  "I  commit  him  to  your 
charge.     Take  care  of  him." 

Richard  undertook  the  trust.  He  told  th« 
king  that  he  must  immediately  leave  that  place, 
and  he  conducted  him  secretly,  all  disguisetl  as 
he  was,  out  of  a  postern  door,  without  making 
known  his  design  to  any  of  his  followers,  ex- 
cept the  two  or  three  who  were  in  immediate 
attendance  upon  him.  He  led  him  away  about 
half  a  mile  into  a  wood,  and,  concealing  him 
there,  left  him  alone,  saying  he  would  go  and 
see  what  intelligence  he  could  obtain,  and  pres- 
ently return  again.  The  troop  of  followers,  in 
the  mean  time,  from  whom  the  king  had  been 
so  desirous  to  get  free,  when  they  found  that 
he  was  gone,  mounted  their  horses  and  rode 
away,  to  escape  the  danger  with  which  Richard 
had  threatened  them.  But,  alas  for  the  unhap- 
py fugitives,  they  did  not  get  far  in  their  flight ; 
they  were  overtaken,  attacked,  conquered,  cap- 
tured, and  treated  as  traitors.     Some  were  shot. 


158  Kino  Charlbs  11.  [1651 

The  king'*  forlorn  condition.  !%«  rate 

ene  was  beheaded,  and  others  were  shut  up  in 
prisons,  where  they  pined  in  hopeless  privation 
and  suffering  for  many  years.  There  was,  how« 
ever,  one  of  the  king's  followers  who  did  not  go 
away  with  the  rest.  It  was  Lord  Wilmot,  an 
influential  nobleman,  who  concealed  himself  in 
the  vicinity,  and  kept  near  the  king  in  all  his 
subsequent  wanderings. 

But  we  must  return  to  the  king  in  the  wood 
It  was  about  sunrise  when  he  was  left  there, 
the  morning  after  the  battle.  It  rained.  The 
king  tried  in  vain  to  find  a  shelter  under  the 
trees  of  the  forest.  The  trees  themselves  were 
soon  thoroughly  saturated,  and  they  received 
the  driving  rain  from  the  skies  only  to  let  the 
water  fall  in  heavier  drops  upon  the  poor  fugi- 
tive's defenseless  head.  Richard  borrowed  a 
blanket  at  a  cottage  near,  thinking  that  it  would 
afford  some  protection,  and  brought  it  to  his 
charge.  The  king  folded  it  up  to  make  a  cush- 
ion to  sit  upon  ;  for,  worn  out  as  he  was  with 
hard  fighting  all  the  day  before,  and  hard  rid*^ 
ing  all  the  night,  he  could  not  stand ;  so  he 
ehose  to  use  his  blanket  as  a  protection  from 
the  wet  ground  beneath  him,  and  to  take  the 
>ain  upon  his  heeid  as  it  fell. 

Richard  sent  a  peasant's  wife  to  him  present- 


L65i.]    Royal  Okk  of  Boacobel.        159 

Woman's  fidelity.  Weary  pMtimai 

ly  with  some  food.  Charles,  who  never  had 
any  great  respect  for  the  female  sex,  was  alarm* 
od  to  find  that  a  woman  had  been  intrusted  with 
guch  a  secret.  "  My  good  woman,"  said  he, 
*'  can  you  be  faithful  to  a  distressed  Cavalier  ?" 
"  Yes,  sir,"  said  she ;  "  I  will  die  rather  than 
betray  you."  Charles  had,  in  fact,  no  occasion 
to  fear.  Woman  is,  indeed,  communicative  and 
confiding,  and  often,  in  unguarded  hours,  reveals 
indiscreetly  what  it  would  have  been  better  to 
have  withheld  ;  but  in  all  cases  where  real  and 
important  trusts  are  committed  to  her  keeping, 
there  is  no  human  fidelity  which  can  be  more 
safely  relied  upon  than  hers. 

Charles  remained  in  the  wood  all  the  day,  ex> 
posed  to  the  pelting  of  tlie  storm.  There  was 
«  road  in  sight,  a  sort  of  by-way  leading  across 
the  country,  and  the  monarch  beguiled  tiie  wea- 
ry hours  as  well  as  he  could  by  watching  this 
road  from  under  the  trees,  to  see  if  any  soldiers 
came  along.  There  was  one  troop  that  appear- 
ed, but  it  passed  directly  by,  marching  heavily 
through  the  mud  and  rain,  the  men  intent,  ap- 
parently, only  on  reaching  their  Journey's  end. 
When  night  came  on,  Richard  Penderel  return- 
ed, approaching  cautiously,  and,  finding  all  safe, 
took  the  king  into  the  house  with  him.    The/ 


160  King  Charles  II  [lG5t 

The  king's  thonghts  In  the  wood.  He  reaolvei  to  escape  into  Wnle*. 

brought  him  to  the  fire,  changed  and  dried  his 
clothes,  and  gave  him  supper.  The  homeless 
monarch  once  more  enjoyed  the  luxuries  of 
warmth  and  shelter. 

During  all  the  day,  while  he  had  been  alone 
in  the  wood,  he  had  been  revolving  in  his  mind 
the  strange  circumstances  of  his  situation,  vain- 
ly endeavoring,  for  many  hours,  to  realize  what 
seemed  at  first  like  a  dreadful  dream.  Could 
it  be  really  true  that  he,  the  monarsh  of  three 
kingdoms,  so  recently  at  the  head  of  a  victori- 
ous army,  and  surrounded  by  generals  and  of- 
ficers of  state,  was  now  a  friendless  and  solitary 
fugitive,  without  even  a  place  to  hide  his  head 
from  the  cold  autumnal  storm  ?  It  seemed  at 
first  a  dream;  but  it  soon  became  a  reality, 
and  he  began  to  ponder,  in  every  form,  the 
question  what  he  should  do.  He  looked  east, 
west,  north,  and  south,  but  could  not  see,  in 
any  quarter,  any  hope  of  succor,  or  any  retison- 
able  prospect  of  escape.  He,  however,  arrived 
at  the  conclusion,  before  night  came  on,  that  it 
would  be,  on  the  whole,  the  best  plan  for  hini.  so 
attempt  to  escape  into  Wales. 

He  was  very  near  the  firontier  of  that  ocon- 
try.  There  was  no  difficulty  to  be  apprehend- 
ed  on  the  road  thither,  excepting  in  the  cn^s* 


1651.]    Royal  Oar  op  Boscobel.        161 

Bich«rd  eaten  tnto  tha  king**  pUa.  Thej  tet  out  on  their  Joomey. 

ing  of  the  Severn,  which,  em  has  abready  been 
remarked,  flows  from  north  to  sonth  not  fai 
from  the  line  of  the  frontier.  He  thought,  too, 
that  if  he  could  once  succeed  in  getting  into 
Wales,  he  could  find  secure  retreats  among  the 
mountains  there  until  he  should  be  able  to 
make  his  way  to  some  sea-port  on  the  coast 
trading  with  France,  and  so  find  his  way  back 
across  the  Channel.  He  proposed  this  plan  to 
Richard  in  the  evening,  and  asked  him  to  ac- 
company him  as  his  guide.  Richard  readily 
consented,  and  the  arrangements  for  the  jour- 
ney were  made.  They  adjusted  the  king's 
dress  again  to  complete  his  disguise,  and  Rich- 
ard gave  him  a  bill-hook — a  sort  of  woodman's 
tool — ^to  carry  in  his  hand.  It  was  agreed,  also, 
that  his  name  should  be  Will  Jones  so  far  as 
there  should  be  any  necessity  for  designating 
him  by  a  name  in  the  progress  of  the  journey. 
They  set  out  at  nine  o'clock  that  same  night, 
in  the  darkness  and  rain.  They  wished  to  gat 
to  Madely,  a  town  near  the  river,  before  the 
morning.  Richard  knew  a  Mr.  Woolf  there,  a 
friend  of  the  Royalist  cause,  who  he  thought 
would  shelter  them,  and  aid  them  in  getting 
across  the  river.  They  went  on  very  well  for 
wme  tirAe,  until  they  came  to  a  stream,  a 

23—11 


162  King  Charles  II.  [1651 

Tke  miller  and  the  mill.  The  punuh 

branch  of  the  Severn,  where  there  was  a  bridge, 
and  on  the  other  side  a  mill.  The  miller  hap- 
pened to  be  watching  that  night  at  his  door. 
At  such  times  every  body  is  on  the  alert,  sus- 
pecting mischief  or  danger  in  every  unusual 
sight  or  sound.  Hearing  the  footsteps,  he  call- 
ed out,  "  Who  goes  there?"  "  Neighbors,"  re- 
plied Richard.  The  king  was  silent.  He  had 
been  previously  charged  by  Richard  not  to 
speak,  except  when  it  could  not  possibly  bj 
avoided,  as  he  had  not  the  accent  of  the  coun- 
try. "  Stop,  then,"  said  the  miUer,  "  if  you  be 
neighbors."  The  travelers  only  pressed  for- 
ward the  faster  for  this  challenge.  "  Stop  !" 
repeated  the  miller,  "  if  you  be  neighbors,  or  1 
will  knock  you  down  ;"  and  he  ran  out  in  pur- 
suit of  them,  armed  apparently  with  the  means 
of  executing  his  threat.  Richard  fled,  the  king 
closely  following  him.  They  turned  into  a  lane, 
and  ran  a  long  distance,  the  way  being  in  many 
places  so  dark  that  the  king,  in  following  Rich 
ard,  was  guided  only  by  the  sound  of  his  foot- 
steps, and  the  creaking  of  the  leather  dress 
which  such  peasants  were  accustomed  in  those 
days  to  wear.  They  crept  along,  however,  as 
silently,  and  yet  as  rapidly  as  possible,  until  at 
length  Richard  turned  «uddenly  aside,  leaped 


..-f/. 


1651.]    Royal  Oak   of   Boscobel.       163" 

Arriral  at  Mwlely.  Interriew  with  Mr.  Wooll 

©ver  a  sort  of  gap  in  the  hedge,  and  crouched 
down  in  the  trench  on  the  other  side.  Here 
they  remained  for  some  time,  listening  to  as- 
certain whether  they  were  pursued.  When 
they  found  that  all  was  still,  they  crept  forth 
from  their  hiding-places,  regained  the  road,  and 
went  on  their  way. 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  town.  Rich- 
ard left  the  king  concealed  in  an  obscure  cor- 
ner of  the  street,  while  he  went  to  the  house  of 
Mr.  Woolf  to  see  if  he  could  obtain  admission. 
All  was  dark  and  still.  He  knocked  till  he  had 
aroused  some  of  the  family,  and  finally  brought 
Mr.  Woolf  to  the  door. 

He  told  Mr.  Woolf  that  he  came  to  ask  shel- 
ter for  a  gentleman  who  was  wishing  to  get 
into  Wales,  and  who  could  not  safely  travel  by 
day.  Mr.  Woolf  hesitated,  and  began  to  ask 
for  further  information  in  respect  to  the  stran- 
ger. Richard  said  that  he  was  an  officer  who 
had  made  his  escape  from  the  battle  of  Wor- 
cester. "  Then,"  said  Mr.  Woolf,  "  I  should 
hazard  my  life  by  concealing  him,  which  I 
should  not  be  willing  to  do  for  any  body,  un- 
less it  were  the  king."  Richard  then  told  him 
that  it  was  his  majesty.  On  hearing  this,  Mr. 
Woolf  decided  at  once  to  admit  and   concead 


164  King  Charles   II.  11651 


-Reception  at  Mr.  Wooirs.  Concealment  in  the  bam 

the  travelers,  and  Richard  went  back  to  bring 
the  king. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house,  they  found 
Mr.  Woolf  making  preparations  for  their  recep- 
tion. They  placed  the  king  by  the  fire  to  warm 
*nd  dry  his  clothes,  and  they  gave  him  such 
food  as  could  be  provided  on  so  sudden  an  emerg- 
ency. As  the  morning  w^as  now  approaching, 
it  was  necessary  to  adopt  some  plan  of  conceal- 
ment for  the  day,  and  Mr.  Woolf  decided  upon 
concealing  his  guests  in  his  barn.  He  said  that 
there  were  holes  and  hiding-places  built  in  his 
house,  but  that  they  had  all  been  discovered  on 
some  previous  search,  and,  in  case  of  any  sus- 
picion or  alarm,  the  officers  would  go  directly 
to  them  all.  He  took  the  travelers,  accordingly, 
to  the  barn,  and  concealed  them  ther^  among 
the  hay.  He  said  that  he  would  himself,  dur- 
ing the  day,  make  inquiries  in  respect  to  the 
practicability  of  their  going  on  upon  their  jour- 
ney, and  come  and  report  to  them  in  the  evening 

Accordingly,  when  the  evening  came,  Mr 
Woolf  returned,  relieved  them  from  their  con- 
finement, and  took  them  back  again  to  the 
house.  His  report,  however,  in  respect  to  the 
oontinuanoe  of  their  journey,  was  very  unfavor- 
•ble.     He  thought  it  would  be  impossible,  h« 


1651.J  Royal  Oak  of  Boscobel.        165 

The  king  advised  to  return.  He  aeced«» 

said,  foi  them  to  cross  the  Severn.  The  Repub- 
lican forces  had  stationed  guards  at  all  the  bridg- 
es, ferries,  and  fords,  and  at  every  other  prac- 
ticable place  of  crossing,  and  no  one  was  allow- 
ed to  pass  without  a  strict  examination.  The 
country  was  greatly  excited,  too,  with  the  in- 
telligence of  the  king's  escape ;  rewards  wer» 
offered  for  his  apprehension,  and  heavy  penal- 
ties denounced  upon  all  who  should  harbor  or 
conceal  him.  Under  these  circumstances,  Mr. 
Woolf  recommended  that  Charles  should  go 
back  to  Boscobel,  and  conceal  himself  as  se- 
curely as  possible  there,  until  some  plan  could 
be  devised  for  effecting  his  escape  from  thr 
country. 

The  king  had  no  alternative  but  to  accede  ta 
this  plan.  He  waited  at  Mr.  Woolf 's  house  till 
midnight,  in  order  that  the  movement  in  th© 
streets  of  the  town  might  have  time  entirely  to 
subside,  and  then,  disappointed  and  discouraged 
by  the  failure  of  his  hopes,  he  prepared  to  set 
out  upon  his  return.  Mr.  Woolf  made  some 
changes  in  his  disguise,  and  bathed  his  face 
in  a  decoction  of  walnut  leaves,  which  he  had 
prepared  during  the  day,  to  alter  his  complex- 
ion, which  was  naturally  very  dark  and  pecu- 
liar, and  thus  exposed  him  to  danger  of  distiov 


166  KfNO  Charles  11.  [1651 

The  rntam  journey  Fording  th«  rlT«r 

ery.  When  all  was  ready,  the  twD  travelers 
bade  their  kind  host  farewell,  and  crept  forth 
again  through  the  silent  streets,  to  return,  by 
the  way  they  came,  back  to  Boscobel. 

They  went  on  very  well  till  they  began  to 
approach  the  branch  stream  where  they  had  met 
with  their  adventure  with  the  miller.  They 
could  not  cross  this  stream  by  the  bridge  with- 
out going  by  the  mill  again,  which  they  were 
both  afraid  to  do.  The  king  proposed  that  they 
«hould  go  a  little  way  below,  and  ford  the  stream. 
Richard  was  afraid  to  attempt  this,  as  he  could 
not  swim  ;  and  as  the  night  was  dark,  and  the 
ourrent  rapid,  there  would  be  imminent  danger 
of  their  getting  beyond  their  depth.  Charles 
said  that  he  could  swim,  and  that  he  would,  ac- 
cordingly, go  first  and  try  the  water.  They 
groped  their  way  down,  therefore,  to  the  bank, 
and  Charles,  leaving  his  guide  upon  the  land, 
waded  in,  and  soon  disappeared  from  view  as 
he  receded  from  the  shore.  He  returned,  how- 
ever, after  a  short  time,  in  safety,  and  reported 
the  passage  practicable,  as  the  water  was  only 
three  or  four  feet  deep ;  so,  taking  Richard  by 
the  hand,  he  led  him  into  the  stream.  It  was 
a  dismal  and  dangerous  undertaking,  wading 
iitus  through  a  deep  and  rapid  current  in  dark- 


1651.]    Royal  Oak  of   Boscobel.         167 

Arriral  at  RoscobeL  The  king's  exbaaited  conJltloiL 

ness  and  cold,  but  they  succeeded  in  passing 
safely  over 

They  reached  Boscobel  before  the  morning 
dawned,  and  Rictiard,  when  they  arrived,  left 
the  king  in  the  wood  whUe  he  went  toward  the 
house  to  reconnoiter,  and  see  if  all  was  safe. 
He  found  within  an  officer  of  the  king's  army, 
a  certain  Colonel  Carlis,  who  had  fled  from  Wor- 
cester some  time  after  the  king  had  left  the 
field,  and,  being  acquainted  with  the  situation 
of  Boscobel,  had  sought  refuge  there ;  William 
Penderel,  who  had  remained  in  charge  of  Bos- 
cobel, having  received  and  secreted  him  when 
he  arrived. 

Richard  and  William  brought  Colonel  Carlis 
out  into  the  wood  to  see  the  king.  They  found 
him  sitting  upon  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  a  tree, 
entirely  exhausted.  He  was  worn  out  with 
hardship  and  fatigue.  They  took  him  to  the 
house.  They  brought  him  to  the  fire,  and  gave 
him  some  food.  The  colonel  drew  off  his  maj- 
esty's heavy  peasant  shoes  and  coarse  stockings. 
They  were  soaked  with  water  and  full  of  graveL 
The  colonel  bathed  his  feet,  which  were  sadly 
swollen  and  blistered,  and,  as  there  were  no  oth- 
er shoes  in  the  house  which  would  answer  for 
him  to  wear,  Dame  Penderel  warmed  and  dried 


168  Kino  Charles   11.  [1651. 

Colonel  Carlia.  The  oak 

those  which  the  colonel  had  taken  off,  by  filling 
them  with  hot  ashes  from  the  fire,  and  then  put 
them  on  again. 

The  king  continued  to  enjoy  such  sort  of  com- 
forts as  these  during  the  night,  but  when  the 
morning  drew  near  it  became  necessary  to  look 
out  for  some  place  of  concealment.  The  Pen- 
derels  thought  that  no  place  within  the  house 
would  be  safe,  for  there  was  danger  every  hour 
of  the  arrival  of  a  band  of  soldiers,  who  would 
not  fail  to  search  the  mansion  most  effectually 
in  every  part.  There  was  the  wood  near  by, 
which  was  very  secluded  and  solitary  ;  but  still 
they  feared  that,  in  case  of  a  search,  the  wood 
would  be  explored  as  effectually  as  the  dwelling. 
Under  these  circumstances,  Carlis  was  looking 
around,  perplexed  and  uncertain,  not  knowing 
what  to  do,  when  he  perceived  some  scattered 
oaks  standing  by  themselves  in  a  field  not  far 
from  the  house,  one  of  which  Stjemed  to  be  so 
full  and  dense  in  its  foliage  as  to  afford  some 
hope  of  concealment  there.  The  tree,  it  seems, 
had  been  headed  down  once  or  twice,  and  this 
pruning  had  had  the  effect,  usual  in  such  cases, 
of  making  the  branches  spread  and  grow  very 
thick  and  full.  The  colonel  thought  that  though, 
in  making  a  search  for  fugitives,  men  might 


1651.]    Royal   Oak   of   Boscobel.        171 


Tbe  klag  takei  ibelter  in  the  OAk. 


Tory  naturally  explore  a  thicket  or  a  grove,  thoy 
would  not  j>robably  think  of  examining  a  do* 
tached  and  solitary  tree;  he  proposed,  accord- 
ingly, that  the  king  and  himself  should  climb 
ap  into  this  spreading  oak,  and  conceal  them- 
tMilves  for  the  day  among  its  branches. 

The  king  consented  to  this  plan.  They  took 
some  provisions,  therefore,  as  soon  as  the  day 
began  to  dawn,  and  something  to  answer  the 
purpose  of  a  cushion,  and  proceeded  to  the  tree. 
By  the  help  of  William  and  Richard  the  king 
and  the  colonel  climbed  up,  and  established 
themselves  in  the  top.  The  colonel  placed  the 
cushion  for  the  king  on  the  best  support  among 
the  limbs  that  he  could  find.  The  bread  and 
cheese,  and  a  small  bottle  of  beer,  which  Rich- 
ard and  William  had  brought  for  their  day's 
supplies,  they  suspended  to  a  branch  within 
their  reach.  The  colonel  then  seated  himself 
a  little  above  the  king,  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  monarch's  head  could  rest  conveniently  in 
his  lap,  and  in  as  easy  a  position  as  it  was  possi- 
ble, under  such  circumstances,  to  attain.  Rich- 
ard and  William,  then,  after  surveying  the 
place  of  retreat  all  around  from  below,  in  order 
to  be  sure  that  the  concealment  afforded  by  the 
foliage  was  every  where  complete,  went  away, 
promisinsr  to  keen  faithful  watch  during  the  dajk', 


172  Kino  Charles  11.  [1651 

Situation  of  the  king  in  the  oak.  EUb  cufferiMg* 

and  to  return  in  the  evening.  All  things  being 
thus  arranged  in  the  oak,  the  colonel  bade  his 
majesty  to  close  his  eyes  and  go  to  sleep,  say- 
ing that  he  would  take  good  care  that  he  dia 
not  fall.  The  king  followed  his  directions,  and 
slept  safely  for  many  hours. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  the  king  and  Carlis 
eaw,  by  means  of  the  openings  between  tho 
leaves,  through  which,  as  through  loop-holes  in 
a  tower,  they  continually  reconnoitered  the  sur- 
rounding fields,  men  passing  to  and  fro,  some 
«f  whom  they  imagined  to  be  soldiers  searching 
the  wood.  They  were  not,  however,  themselves 
molested.  They  passed  the  day  undisturbed, 
except  by  the  incessant  anxiety  and  alarm  which 
they  necessarily  suffered,  and  the  fatigue  and 
pain,  which  must  have  become  almost  intolera- 
ble before  night,  from  their  constrained  and  com- 
fortless position.  Night,  however,  came  at  last, 
and  relieved  them  from  their  duress.  They  de- 
scended from  the  tree  and  stole  back  cautiously 
to  the  house,  the  king  resolving  that  he  could 
oot  bear  such  hardship  another  day,  and  that 
tliey  mast,  accordingly,  find  some  other  hiding- 
place  for  him  on  the  morrow.  We  can  scarcely 
be  surprised  a  t  this  decision.  A  wUd  beast  could 
hardly  have  endured  a  second  dav  in  such  a  lair. 

Other  plans  of  conofalment  for  tlie  king  were 


1651.J   Royal  Oak  of  Boscobel.        173 

Fame  of  the  Royid  Oak.  Heasuroa  for  its  protectioiiL 

ftocordingly  formed  that  night,  and  measures 
were  soon  concerted,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  next 
chapter,  to  effect  his  escape  from  the  country. 
The  old  tree,  however,  which  had  sheltered  him 
so  safely,  was  not  forgotten.  In  after  years, 
when  the  monarch  was  restored  to  his  throne, 
and  the  story  of  his  dangers  and  his  escape  was 
made  known  throughout  the  kingdom,  thousands 
of  visitors  came  to  look  upon  the  faithful  tree 
which  had  thus  afforded  his  majesty  its  un- 
conscious but  effectual  protection.  Every  one 
took  away  a  leaf  or  a  sprig  for  a  souvenir,  and 
when,  at  last,  the  proprietor  found  that  there 
was  danger  that  the  whole  tree  would  be  car- 
ried away  unless  he  interposed,  he  fenced  it  in 
and  tilled  the  ground  around  it,  to  defend  it 
from  further  mutilation.  It  has  borne  the  name 
of  ttie  Royal  Oak  from  that  time  to  the  present 
day,  and  has  been  the  theme  of  narrators  and 
poets  without  number,  who  have  celebrated  its 
praises  in  every  conceivable  form  of  comp()si- 
tion.  There  is,  however,  probably  no  one  of 
them  all  who  has  done  more  for  the  wide  ex- 
tension of  its  fame  among  all  the  ranks  and  gra- 
dations of  society  than  the  unknown  author  ol 
the  humble  distich, 

♦•  The  royal  oak,  it  waa  the  tree. 
That  saved  his  royal  mtoestr  " 


174  KiN5   Charles  11.  [1651 

nie  kinf  i&  Um  tkiua«  of  Bo*oob«L  New  place  of  eoncMilnwiBt 


r'HAPTBR     VIII. 

The    Kino'8    Escape   to    Francb 

Y^CTHEN  the  king  and  Carlis  came  into  the 
^  ^  house  again,  on  the  evening  after  their 
wearisome  day's  confinement  in  the  tree,  Dame 
Penderel  had  some  chickens  prepared  for  his 
majesty's  supper,  which  he  enjoyed  as  a  great 
and  unexpected  luxury.  They  showed  him, 
too,  the  hiding  hole,  built  in  the  walls,  where 
the  Earl  of  Derby  had  been  concealed,  and 
where  they  proposed  that  he  should  be  lodged 
for  the  night.  There  was  room  in  it  to  lay 
down  a  small  straw  pallet  for  a  bed.  The  king 
thought  it  would  be  very  secure,  and  was  con- 
firmed in  his  determination  not  to  go  again  to 
the  oak.  Before  his  majesty  retired,  Carlis 
asked  him  what  he  would  like  to  have  to  eat 
on  the  morrow.  He  said  that  he  should  like 
some  mutton  Carlis  eissented,  and,  bidding  bis 
master  good  night,  he  left  him  to  his  repose. 

There  was  no  mutton  in  the  house,  and  Rich- 
ard and  William  both  agreed  that  it  would  be 
ansafe  for  either  of  tJiem  to  procure  any,  since, 


«.651.]  Escape  to  France.  17d 

Hie  itolen  mntton.  The  UtUe  gallerj 

as  they  were  not  accustomed  to  purchase  such 
food,  their  doing  so  now  would  awaken  suspi- 
cion that  they  had  some  unusual  guest  to  pro- 
ride  for.  The  colonel,  accordingly,  undertook 
himself  to  obtain  the  supply. 

Getting  the  necessary  directions,  therefore, 
from  Richard  and  William,  he  went  to  the 
house  of  a  farmer  at  some  little  distance — a 
tenant,  he  was,  on  the  Boscobel  estate — and 
groped  his  way  to  the  sheep-cote.  He  selected 
an  animal,  such  as  he  thought  suitable  for  his 
purpose,  and  butchered  it  with  his  dagger.  He 
then  went  back  to  the  house,  and  sent  William 
Penderel  to  bring  the  plunder  home.  William 
dressed  a  leg  of  the  mutton,  and  sent  it  in  the 
morning  into  the  room  which  they  had  assign- 
ed to  the  king,  near  his  hiding  hole.  The  king 
was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  this  feast 
He  called  for  a  carving-knife  and  a  frying-pan 
He  cut  off  some  callops  from  the  joint,  and  then , 
after  frying  the  meat  with  Carlis's  assistance, 
they  ate  it  together. 

The  king,  becoming  now  somewhat  acouij- 
tomed  to  his  situation,  began  to  grow  a  little 
more  bold.  He  walked  in  a  little  gaUery  which 
opened  from  his  room.  There  was  a  window 
'n  this  gallery  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 


176  Kino  Charles  II.  [1651 

Hie  king't  derotloiu.  The  arbor  In  the  garden. 

road.  The  king  kept  "watch  carefully  at  this 
windoW;  as  he  walked  to  and  fro,  that  he  might 
observe  the  first  appearance  of  any  enemy's  ap- 
proach. It  was  observed,  too,  that  he  appar- 
ently spent  some  time  here  in  exercises  of  de- 
votion, imploring,  probably,  the  protection  of 
Heaven,  in  this  his  hour  of  danger  and  distress. 
The  vows  £ind  promises  which  he  doubtless 
made  were,  however,  all  forgotten,  as  usual  in 
such  cases,  when  safety  and  prosperity  came 
again. 

There  was  a  little  garden,  too,  near  the  house, 
with  an  eminence  at  the  further  end  of  it,  where 
there  was  an  arbor,  with  a  stone  table,  and  seats 
about  it.  It  was  retired,  and  yet,  being  in  an 
elevated  position,  it  answered,  like  the  window 
of  the  gallery  in  the  house,  the  double  purpose 
of  a  hiding-place  and  a  watch-tower.  It  was 
far  more  comfortable,  and  probably  much  more 
safe,  than  the  wretched  nest  in  the  tree  of  the 
day  before ;  for,  were  the  king  discovered  ir 
the  arbor,  there  would  be  some  chances  of  es- 
cape from  detection  still  remaining,  but  to  have 
been  found  in  the  tree  would  have  been  certain 
destruction. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Penderels  had  had  ine»- 
«engers  out  dvring  the  Saturday  and  Sunday, 


1651.]  E Si- APR  TO  Franob.  177 

PlsD  for  the  king"!  eacape.  Un.  Lan* 

oomramrioating  with  certain  known  friends  of 
the  king  in  the  neighboring  towns,  and  endeav- 
©ring  to  concert  some  plan  for  his  escape.  They 
were  successful  in  these  consultations,  and  be- 
fore Sunday  night  a  plan  was  formed.  It  seems 
there  was  a  certain  Colonel  Lane,  whose  wife 
had  obtained  a  pass  from  the  authorities  of  the 
Republican  army  to  go  to  Bristol,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  sickness  of  a  relative,  and  to  take 
with  her  a  man-servant.  Bristol  was  a  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  southward,  near  the  month 
of  the  Severn.  It  was  thought  that  if  the  king 
fihould  reach  this  place,  he  could,  perhaps,  suc- 
ceed afterward  in  making  his  way  to  the  south- 
ern coast  of  England,  and  embarking  there,  at 
some  sea-port,  for  France.  The  plan  was  ao« 
oordingly  formed  for  Mrs.  Lane  to  go,  as  she 
oad  designed,  on  this  journey,  and  to  take  the 
king  along  with  her  in  the  guise  of  her  serv- 
ant. The  arrangements  were  all  made,  and 
the  king  was  to  be  met  in  a  wood  five  or  six 
miles  from  Boscobel,  early  on  Monday  morning, 
by  some  trusty  friends,  who  were  afterward  tc 
conceal  him  for  a  time  in  their  houses,  until 
all  things  should  be  ready  for  the  journey. 

The  king  found,  however,  when  the  morning 
Epproached,  that  his  .feet  were  in  such  a  oondi 
23—12 


178  King  Charle*  II.  [1651 

k  dark  and  1101:1117  night  The  PendereU  bid  ttie  king  fareweU 

tion  that  he  could  not  walk.  They  according, 
ly  procured  a  horse  belonging  to  one  of  the  Pen- 
derels,  and  put  him  upon  it.  The  brothers  all 
accompanied  him  as  he  went  away.  They  were 
armed  with  concealed  weapons,  intending,  if 
they  were  attacked  by  any  small  party,  to  de- 
fend the  king  with  their  lives.  They,  howev- 
er, went  on  without  any  molestation.  It  was 
a  dark  and  rainy  night.  Nights  are  seldom  oth- 
erwise in  England  in  September.  The  broth- 
ers Penderel,  six  of  them  in  all,  guided  the  king 
along  through  the  darkness  and  rain,  until  they 
were  within  a  mile  or  two  of  the  appointed  place 
of  meeting,  where  the  king  dismounted,  for  the 
purpose  of  walking  the  rest  of  way,  for  greater 
safety,  and  three  of  the  brothers,  taking  the 
horse  with  them,  returned.  The  rest  went  on. 
and,  after  delivering  the  king  safely  into  the 
hands  of  his  friends,  who  were  waiting  at  the 
appointed  place  to  receive  him,  bade  his  majes- 
ty farewell,  and,  expressing  their  good  wishes 
for  the  safe  accomplishment  of  his  escape,  they 
returned  to  Boscobel. 

They  now  altered  the  king's  disguise  in  some 
degree,  to  accommodate  the  change  in  his  as- 
sumed character  from  that  of  a  peasant  of  the 
woods  to  a  respectable  farmer's  son,  such  as 


1651.1         Escape   tj   Franck.  179 


The  klnf*!  dliguiae.  He  lett  out  on  hit  Journey 

would  be  a  suitable  traveling  attendant  for  an 
English  dame,  and  they  gave  him  the  new 
name  of  William  Jackson  in  the  place  of  Will 
Jones.  Mrs.  Lane's  sister's  husband  was  to  go 
with  them  a  part  of  the  way,  and  there  was 
another  gentleman  and  lady  also  of  the  party, 
so  they  were  five  in  all.  The  horses  were 
brought  to  the  door  when  aU  was  ready,  just  in 
the  edge  of  the  evening,  the  pretended  attend- 
ant standing  respectfully  by,  with  his  hat  un- 
der his  arm.  He  was  to  ride  upon  the  same 
horse  with  Mrs.  Lane,  the  lady  being  seated  on 
a  pillion  behind  him.  The  family  assembled 
to  bid  the  party  farewell,  none,  either  of  the 
travelers  or  of  the  spectators,  except  Mrs.  Lane 
and  her  brother-in-law,  having  any  idea  that 
the  meek-looking  William  Jackson  was  any 
other  than  what  he  seemed. 

They  traveled  on  day  after  day,  meeting  with 
various  adventures,  and  apparently  with  narrow 
escapes.  At  one  time  a  shoe  was  off  from  the 
horse's  foot,  and  the  king  stopped  at  a  black- 
smith's to  have  it  replaced.  While  the  smith 
was  busy  at  the  work,  the  king,  standing  by, 
asked  him  what  news.  "No  news,"  said  the 
smith,  "  that  I  know  of,  since  the  grand  news 
of  beating  th*)  rogues,  the  Soots,  at  Worcester '' 


180  KiNe  Charles   II.  [1651 

nie  Incident  at  the  blacksmitfa'c  Winding  ap  Hm  JaA 

The  king  asked  if  any  of  the  English  officen 
who  were  with  the  Soots  had  been  taken  since 
the  battle.  "  Some  had  been  captured,"  the 
smith  replied,  "but  he  could  not  learn  that  the 
rogue  Charles  Stuart  had  been  taken."  The 
king  then  told  him  that  if  that  rogue  were  tak- 
en, he  deserved  to  be  hanged  more  than  aU  the 
rest,  for  bringing  the  Scots  in.  "  You  speak 
like  an  honest  man,"  said  the  smith.  Soon  aft- 
er, the  work  was  done,  and  Charles  led  the  horse 
away. 

At  another  time,  when  the  party  had  stopped 
tor  the  night,  the  king,  in  accordance  with  his 
assumed  character,  went  to  the  kitchen.  They 
were  roasting  some  meat  with  a  jack,  a  ma- 
chine used  much  in  those  days  to  keep  meat, 
while  roasting,  in  slow  rotation  before  the  fira 
The  jack  had  run  down.  They  asked  the  pre- 
tended William  Jackson  to  wind  it  up.  In  try- 
ing to  do  it,  he  attempted  to  wind  it  the  wrong 
way.  The  cook,  in  ridiculing  his  awkwardness, 
asked  him  what  country  he  came  from,  that  he 
did  not  know  how  to  wind  up  a  jack.  The  king 
meekly  replied  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  poor 
tenant  of  Colonel  Lane's,  and  that  they  seldom 
had  meat  to  roast  at  home,  and  that,  when  they 
had  it,  they  did  not  roast  it  with  a  Jaok. 


1651]  Escape   to   France.  181 

Tbe  king  arriTM  U  Leigh.  Old  Pop«  the  butler 

The  party  at  length  arrived  safely  at  thefe 
place  of  destination,  which  was  at  the  house  of 
a  Mrs.  Norton,  at  a  place  called  Leigh,  about 
three  miles  from  Bristol.  Here  +he  whole  par- 
ty were  received,  and,  in  order  to  seclude  the 
king  as  much  as  possible  from  observation,  Mrs. 
Lane  pretended  that  he  was  in  *very  feeble 
health,  and  he  was,  accordingly,  a  good  deal 
confined  to  his  room.  The  disease  which  they 
selected  for  him  was  an  intermittent  fever, 
which  caroe  on  only  at  intervals.  This  would 
account  for  his  being  sometimes  apparently  pret- 
ty well,  and  allowed  him  occasionally,  when 
tired  of  being  shut  up  in  his  room,  to  come  down 
and  join  the  other  servants,  and  hear  their  con- 
versation. 

There  was  an  old  servant  of  the  family,  named 
Pope,  a  butler,  to  whose  care  the  pretended  Will- 
iam Jackson  was  specially  confided.  On  the 
following  morning  after  his  arrival,  Charles, 
feeling,  notwithstanding  his  fever,  a  good  appe- 
tite after  the  fatigues  of  his  journey,  went  down 
to  get  his  breakfast,  and,  while  there,  some  men 
?ftme  in,  friends  of  the  servants,  and  Pope 
brought  out  a  luncheon  of  bread  and  ale,  and 
placed  it  before  them.  While  they  were  eat- 
ing it,  they  began  to  talk  about  the  battle  of 


182  King  Charles  II.  [1651 

nia  king  U  dlccovered.  Colonel  Wyndhua. 

Worcester,  and  one  of  the  men  described  it  so 
accurately,  that  the  king  perceived  that  he  must 
have  been  there.  On  questioning  lim  more  par- 
ticularly, the  man  said  that  he  was  a  soldier  in 
the  king's  army,  and  he  began  to  describe  the 
person  and  appearance  of  the  king.  Charles 
W£is  alarmed,  and  very  soon  rose  and  went  away. 
Pope,  who  had  had,  it  seems,  his  suspicions  be- 
fore, was  now  confirmed  in  them.  He  went  to 
Mrs.  Lane,  and  told  her  that  he  knew  very  well 
that  their  stranger  guest  was  the  king.  She 
denied  most  positively  that  it  was  so,  but  she 
immediately  took  measures  to  communicate  the 
conversation  to  Charles.  The  result  of  their 
consultations,  and  of  their  inquiries  about  the 
character  of  Pope  for  prudence  and  fidelity,  was 
to  admit  him  to  their  confidence,  and  endeavor 
to  secure  his  aid.  He  was  faithful  in  keeping 
the  secret,  and  he  rendered  the  king  afterward 
a  great  deal  of  very  efficient  aid. 

There  wsis  a  certain  Colonel  Wyndham, 
whose  name  has  become  immortalized  by  his 
connection  with  the  king's  escape,  who  lived  at 
a  place  called  Trent,  not  far  from  the  southern 
eoast  of  England.  After  much  deliberation  and 
many  inquiries,  it  was  decided  that  the  king 
should  proceed  there  while  arrangements  should 


1651.]  Escape  to   Frakob.  183 

The  king  goes  to  Colonel  Wyndham'*.      Wtinderingi  of  Lord  WQmoi 

be  made  for  his  embarkation.  When  this  plan 
was  formed,  Mrs.  Lane  received  a  pretended 
letter  from  home,  saying  that  her  father  was 
taken  suddenly  and  dangerously  sick,  and  urg- 
ing  her  immediate  return.  They  set  out  ao- 
oordingly,  William  having  so  far  recovered  from 
his  fe\er  as  tc  be  able  to  travel  again ! 

During  a, A  this  time,  Lord  Wilmot,  who  has 
already  been  mentioned  as  a  fellow-fugitive 
with  Charles  from  the  battle  of  Worcester,  had 
followed  the  party  of  the  king  in  his  progress 
through  the  country,  under  various  disguises, 
and  by  different  modes  of  travel,  keeping  near 
his  royal  master  all  the  way,  and  obtaining 
stolen  interviews  with  him,  from  time  to  time, 
for  consultation.  In  this  way  each  rendered 
the  other  very  essential  aid.  The  two  friends 
arrived  at  last  at  Colonel  Wyndham's  together. 
Mrs.  Lane  and  her  party  here  took  leave  of  tha 
king,  and  returned  northward  toward  her  home. 

Colonel  Wyndham  was  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance of  the  king.  He  had  been  an  officer  un- 
der Charles  I.,  in  the  civil  wars  preceding  that 
monarch's  captivity  and  death,  and  Charles, 
who,  as  Prince  of  Wales,  had  made  a  campaign 
as  will  be  recollected,  in  the  west  of  England^ 
before  be  went  to  France,  had  had  frequent  in- 


184  King  Charles  II.  [1651 

The  Uag*!  aordfail  reoaptton.  Plan  for  cotiTeTiiif  blin  to  France 

teroourse  with  Wyndham,  and  had  great  confi 
dence  in  his  fidelity.  The  colonel  had  been  at 
last  shut  up  in  a  castle,  and  had  finally  surren- 
dered on  such  conditions  as  secured  his  own  lib- 
erty and  safety.  He  had,  consequently,  since 
been  allowed  to  live  quietly  at  his  own  estate 
in  Trent,  though  he  was  watched  and  suspect- 
ed by  the  government  as  a  known  friend  of  the 
king's.  Charles  had,  of  course,  great  confidence 
in  him.  He  was  very  cordially  received  into 
his  house,  and  very  securely  secreted  there. 

It  would  be  dangerous  for  Wyndham  him- 
self to  do  any  thing  openly  in  respect  to  find- 
ing a  vessel  to  convey  the  king  to  France.  He 
accordingly  engaged  a  trusty  friend  to  go  down 
to  the  sea-port  on  the  coast  which  was  neare-st 
to  his  residence,  and  see  what  he  could  do. 
This  sea-port  was  Lyme,  or  Lyme-Regis,  ay  it 
is  sometimes  called.  It  was  about  twenty-five 
miles  from  Trent,  where  Wyndham  resided, 
toward  the  southwest,  and  about  the  same  dis- 
tance to  the  eastward  of  Exeter,  where  Charles's 
mother  had  some  years  before  sought  refiig« 
from  her  husband's  enemies. 

Colonel  Wyndham's  messenger  went  to 
Lyme.  He  found  there,  pretty  soon,  the  mas- 
ter of  a  small  vessel,  which  was  accnstome*!  u, 


1651.]  Escape   to  France.  18fi 

PropoMd  of  Wyndham's  messenger.  Th*  eapuia  •greet  to  It 

ply  back  and  forth  to  one  of  the  ports  on  the 
coast  of  France,  to  carry  merchandise.  The 
messenger,  after  making  inquiries,  and  finding 
that  the  captain,  if  captain  he  may  be  called, 
was  the  right  sort  of  man  for  such  an  enter- 
prise, obtained  an  interview  with  him,  and  in- 
troduced conversation  by  asking  when  he  ex- 
pected to  go  back  to  France.  The  captain  re- 
plied that  it  would  probably  be  some  time  be- 
fore he  should  be  able  to  make  up  another  car- 
go. "  How  should  you  like  to  take  some  pas- 
sengers ?"  said  the  messenger.  "  Passengers  ?" 
inquired  the  captain.  "  Yes,"  rejoined  the  oth- 
er;  "  there  are  two  gentlemen  here  who  wish 
to  cross  the  Channel  privately,  and  they  are 
willing  to  pay  fifty  pounds  to  be  landed  at  any 
port  on  the  other  side.  "Will  you  take  them  ?** 
The  captain  perceived  that  it  was  a  seriouB 
business.  There  was  a  proclamation  out,  of- 
fering a  reward  for  the  apprehension  of  the  king, 
or  Charles  Stuart  as  they  called  him,  and  also 
for  other  of  the  leaders  at  the  battle  of  Worces- 
ter. All  persons,  too,  were  strictly  prohibited 
fr<>m  taking  any  one  across  the  Channel ;  and 
to  conceal  the  king,  or  to  connive  in  any  way 
at  hiB  escape,  was  death.  The  captain,  howev- 
er,  at  length  agreed  to  the  proposal,  influenced 


t86  King  Charles  II.  [1651 

imngements  for  eroaatng  the  Channel  Proapect  of  racceM 

as  the  colonel's  messenger  supposed,  partly  by 
the  amount  of  his  pay,  and  partly  by  his  inter- 
est in  the  Royal  cause.  He  agreed  to  make 
his  little  vessel  ready  without  delay. 

They  did  not  think  it  prudent  for  the  king  to 
attempt  to  embark  at  Lyme,  but  there  was,  a 
few  miles  to  the  eastward  of  it,  along  the  shore, 
a  small  village  named  Charmouth,  where  there 
was  a  creek  jutting  up  from  the  sea,  and  a  lit- 
tle pier,  sufficient  for  the  landing  of  so  small  a 
vessel  as  the  one  they  had  engaged.  It  wa? 
agreed  that,  on  an  appointed  day,  the  king  and 
Lord  Wilmot  were  to  come  down  to  Charmouth, 
and  take  up  their  lodgings  at  the  inn ;  that  in 
the  night  the  captain  was  to  sail  out  of  the  port 
of  Lyme,  in  the  most  private  maimer  possible, 
and  come  to  Charmouth ;  and  that  the  king 
and  Wilmot,  who  would,  in  the  mean  time,  be 
watching  from  the  inn,  when  they  saw  the  light 
of  the  approaching  vessel,  should  come  down  to 
the  pier  and  embark,  and  the  captain  then  im- 
mediately sail  away. 

The  messenger  accordingly  went  back  to  Col 
onel  Wyndham's  with  intelligence  of  the  plan 
that  he  had  formed,  while  the  captain  of  the 
vessel  went  to  work  as  privately  as  possible  to 
lay  in  his  stores  and  make  his  other  prepara< 


1651.J  EscAPB  TO  France.  187 

no  captain's  wUb.  Her  luaplcitioa 

tions  for  sea.  He  did  this  with  the  utmost  pre- 
eaution  and  secrecy,  and  succeeded  in  deceiv* 
ing  every  body  but  his  wife.  "Wives  have  the 
opportunity  to  perceive  indications  of  the  con- 
cealed existence  of  matters  of  moment  and 
weight  which  others  do  not  enjoy,  in  studying 
the  countenances  of  their  husbands.  A  man  can 
easily,  through  the  day,  when  surrounded  by 
the  world,  assume  an  unconcerned  and  careless 
air,  though  oppressed  with  a  very  considerable 
mental  burden ;  but  when  he  comes  home  at 
night,  he  instinctively  throws  off  half  his  dis- 
guise, and  conjugal  watchfulness  and  solicitude 
eaaily  penetrate  the  remainder.  At  least  it 
was  so  in  this  case.  The  captain's  dame  per- 
ceived that  her  husband  was  thoughtful  and  ab- 
sent-minded. She  watched  him.  She  observ- 
ed some  indications  that  he  was  making  prep- 
arations for  sea.  She  asked  him  what  it  meant. 
He  said  he  did  not  know  how  soon  he  might 
have  a  cargo,  and  he  wanted  to  be  all  ready  in 
8ea!»on.  His  wife,  however,  was  not  satisfied 
She  watched  him  more  closely  still,  and  when 
the  appointed  night  came  on  which  he  had 
agreed  to  sail,  finding  that  it  was  impossible  foi 
him  to  elude  her  vigilance,  he  told  her  plainly 
that  he  was  going  across  the  Channel  on  private 


188  Kino  Charles   II.  [1651 

Btrenwms  oppodtlon  of  the  captafai'i  wife.  The  plan  fciii 

business,  but  that  he  should  immediately  re 
turn. 

She  declared  positively  that  he  should  not  go 
She  knew,  she  said,  that  the  business  was  some- 
thing which  would  end  in  ruining  him  and  hia 
family,  and  she  was  determined  that  he  should 
not  risk  her  safety  and  his  own  life  in  any  such 
desperate  and  treasonable  plans.  She  locked 
the  door  upon  him,  and  when  he  insisted  on 
being  released,  she  declared  that  if  he  did  at- 
tempt to  go,  she  would  immediately  give  warn- 
ing to  the  authorities,  and  have  him  arrested 
and  confined.  So  the  discomfited  captain  was 
compeUed  to  give  up  his  design,  and  break  his 
appointment  at  the  Charmouth  pier. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  king  and  Lord  Wil- 
mot  came  down,  as  had  been  agreed  upon,  to 
Charmouth,  and  put  up,  with  many  other  trav- 
elers, at  the  inn.  There  was  great  excitement 
all  over  that  part  of  the  country,  every  one  talk- 
ing about  the  battle  of  Worcester,  the  escape 
of  the  king,  and  especially  about  an  expedition 
which  CromweU  had  been  organizing,  which 
was  then  assembling  on  the  southern  coast. 
Its  destination  was  the  island  of  Jersey,  which 
had  thus  far  adhered  to  the  Royalist  cause,  and 
which  Cromwell  was  now  intending  to  reduce 


I6dl.)         Escape    to    Fhancb.  1«9 

The  fliiftUTe*  la  greta  danger.  Their  dlMpputntment 

to  sabjection  to  him.  The  bustle  and  movo 
ment  which  all  these  causes  combined  to  cr©- 
ate,  made  the  king  and  Lord  Wilmot  very  anx 
ious  and  uneasy.  There  were  assemblies  con 
▼ened  in  the  villages  which  they  passed  through, 
and  men  were  haranguing  the  populace  on  the 
victories  which  had  been  gained,  and  on  the  fu- 
ture measures  to  be  pursued.  In  one  place  the 
bells  were  ringing,  and  bonfires  were  burning  in 
celebration  of  the  death  of  the  king,  it  being 
rumored  and  believed  that  he  had  been  shot. 

Our  two  fugitives,  however,  arrived  safely  at 
the  inn,  put  up  tneir  horses,  and  began  to  watch 
anxiously  for  the  light  of  the  approaching  vessel. 
They  watched,  of  course,  in  vain.  Midnight 
oame,  but  no  vessel.  They  waited  hour  after 
hour,  till  at  last  morning  dawned,  and  they 
found  that  all  hope  of  accomplishing  their  en- 
terprise must  be  abandoned.  They  could  not 
remain  where  they  were,  however,  another  day, 
without  suspicion ;  so  they  prepared  to  move 
on  and  seek  temporary  refuge  in  some  other 
neighboring  town,  while  they  could  send  one  of 
the  attendants  who  came  with  them  back  to 
Colonel  Wyndham's,  to  see  if  he  oould  ascer- 
tain the  cause  of  the  failure.  One  or  two  dayt 
were  spent  in  inquiries,  negotiations,  and  de- 


190  King  Charles  II  \1651 

Murow  eieape  of  the  fagitiTea.  The  four  horae-ahoM 

lays.  The  restilt  was,  that  all  hope  of  embark- 
ing at  Lyme  had  to  be  abandoned,  and  it  waa 
concluded  that  the  fugitives  should  proceed  on 
to  the  eastward,  along  the  coast,  to  the  care  of 
another  Royalist,  a  certain  Colonel  Gunter,  who 
might  perhaps  find  means  to  send  them  away 
from  some  port  in  that  part  of  the  country.  At 
any  rate,  they  would,  by  this  plan,  escape  the 
excitements  and  dangers  which  seemed  to  en- 
viron them  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lyme, 

It  was  fortunate  that  they  went  away  from 
Charmouth  when  they  did ;  by  doing  so  they 
narrowly  escaped  apprehension ;  for  that  night, 
while  the  king's  horse  was  in  the  stable,  a  smith 
was  sent  for  to  set  a  shoe  upon  the  horse  of  one 
of  the  other  travelers.  After  finishing  his  work, 
he  began  to  examine  the  feet  of  the  other  horses 
in  the  stalls,  and  when  he  came  to  the  one  which 
the  king  had  rode,  his  attention  was  particularly 
attracted  to  the  condition  and  appearance  of  the 
shoes,  and  he  remarked  to  those  who  were  wiin 
him  that  that  horse  had  come  a  long  journey, 
and  that  of  the  four  shoes,  he  would  warrant 
that  no  two  had  been  made  in  the  same  county. 
This  remark  was  quoted  the  next  day,  and 
the  mysterious  circumstance,  trifling  as  it  was, 
w8««  fiTiffioient,  in  the  highly  excitable  8tat<<  of 


1651.]         Escape   to   France.  191 

Hie  fiigitiTe*  arriTe  at  Shoreium.  Colonel  Ovnter'*  plas 

the  public  mind,  to  awaken  attention.  Peopl* 
came  to  see  the  horse,  and  to  inquire  for  the  own- 
er, but  they  found  that  both  had  disappeared. 
They  immediately  determined  that  the  stranger 
must  have  been  the  king,  or  at  least  some  distin- 
guished personage  in  disguise,  and  they  sent  in 
search  of  the  party  in  every  direction ;  but  the 
travelers  had  taken  such  effectual  precautions 
to  blind  all  pursuit  that  their  track  could  not 
be  followed. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  king  journeyed  secret- 
ly on  from  the  residence  of  one  faithful  adherent 
to  another,  encountering  many  perplexities,  and 
escaping  narrowly  many  dangers,  until  he  came 
at  last  to  the  neighborhood  of  Shoreham,  a  town 
apon  the  coast  of  Sussex.  Colonel  Gunter  had 
provided  a  vessel  here.  It  was  a  small  vessel, 
bound,  with  a  load  of  coal,  along  the  coast,  fa 
the  westward,  to  a  port  called  Pool,  beyond  the 
Isle  of  Wight.  Colonel  Gunter  had  arranged 
it  with  the  master  to  deviate  from  his  voyage, 
b__,:  crossing  over  to  the  coast  of  France,  and 
leaving  his  passengers  there.  He  was  then  to 
return,  and  proceed  to  his  original  destination. 
Both  the  owner  of  the  vessel  and  the  master 
who  commanded  it  were  Royalists,  bat  they 
had  not  been  told  that  it  was  the  king  whoir 


192  Kino   Charles  II.  [1651 

The  king  recognised.  The  fvglttTe*  embao^ 

they  were  going  to  convey.  In  the  bargam 
which  had  been  made  with  them,  the  passen- 
gers had  been  designated  simply  as  two  gentle- 
men of  rank  who  had  escaped  from  the  battle 
of  Worcester.  When,  however,  the  master  of 
the  vessel  saw  the  king,  he  immediately  recog- 
nized him,  having  seen  him  before  in  his  cam- 
paigns under  his  father.  This,  however,  seem- 
ed to  make  no  difference  in  his  readiness  to 
convey  the  passengers  away.  He  said  that  he 
was  perfectly  willing  to  risk  his  life  to  save  that 
of  his  sovereign,  and  the  arrangements  for  the 
embarkation  proceeded. 

The  little  vessel — its  burden  was  about  sixty 
tons — was  brought  into  a  small  cove  at  Bright- 
helmstone,  a  few  miles  to  the  eastward  from 
Shoreham,  and  run  upon  the  beach,  where  it 
was  left  stranded  when  the  tide  went  down. 
The  king  and  Lord  Wilmot  went  to  it  by 
night,  ascended  its  side  by  a  ladder,  went  down 
immediately  into  the  cabin,  and  concealed  them . 
selves  there.  When  the  rising  tide  had  lifted 
the  vessel,  with  its  precious  burden,  gently  from 
the  sand,  the  master  made  easy  sail,  and  coast- 
ed along  the  English  shore  toward  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  which  was  the  direction  of  the  voyage 
which  he  had  originally  intended  to  make.     Hr 


1651.1         Escape   to   France.  193 


MeofWisfat  PropoMloftbsmaatarof  Ike  Alp^ 

did  not  wish  the  people  at  Shoreham  to  observe 
any  alteration  of  his  course,  since  that  might 
have  awakened  suspicion,  and  possibly  invited 
pursuit ;  so  they  went  on  for  a  time  to  the  west- 
ward, which  was  a  course  that  rather  increased 
than  diminished  their  distance  from  their  placa 
of  destination. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  when 
they  sailed.  There  was  a  gentle  October  breeze 
from  the  north,  which  carried  them  slowly  along 
the  shore,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  Isle  of  Wight 
oame  fally  into  view.  There  were  four  men 
and  a  boy  on  board  the  ship,  constituting  tne 
crew.  The  master  came  to  the  king  in  tlie 
cabin,  and  proposed  to  him,  as  a  measure  of 
additional  security,  and  to  prevent  the  possibil- 
ity of  any  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  sailors 
to  the  proposed  change  in  their  course  which  it 
would  now  soon  be  necessary  to  make,  that  the 
king  and  Lord  Wilmot  should  propose  the  plan 
of  going  to  France  to  them,  asking  their  inter- 
eat  with  the  captain  in  obtaining  his  consent,  as 
it  had  not  yet  been  mentioned  to  the  captain  at 
all ;  for  the  sailors  had  of  course  understood  that 
the  voyage  was  only  the  usual  coastwise  trip  to 
tne  port  of  Pool,  and  that  these  strangers  were 
ordinary  travelers,  going  on  that  voyage.  The 
2a-13 


194  Kino  Charles  II.  [1651 

Plan  for  gaining  orar  tiie  ■allors.  Ita  (aeooM 

meister,  therefore,  thought  that  there  would  be 
less  danger  of  difficulty  if  the  king  were  first 
to  gain  the  sailors  over  himself,  by  promises  or 
rewards,  and  then  all  come  together  to  gain  the 
captain's  consent,  which  could  then,  at  last, 
with  apparent  reluctance,  be  accorded. 

This  plan  was  pursued.  The  two  travelers 
went  to  the  sailors  upon  the  forecastle,  and  told 
them,  with  an  air  of  honest  confidence,  that 
they  were  not  what  they  seemed.  They  were 
merchants,  they  said,  and  were  unfortunately 
a  little  in  debt,  and  under  the  necessity  of  leav- 
ing England  for  a  time.  They  had  some  mon- 
«y  due  to  them  in  Rouen,  in  France,  and  they 
wanted  very  much  to  be  taken  across  the  Chan 
nel  to  Dieppe,  or  some  port  near  Rouen.  They 
made  known  their  condition  to  the  sailors,  thev 
said,  because  they  wanted  their  intercession , 
with  the  captain  to  take  them  over,  and  they 
gave  the  sailors  a  good  generous  present  in 
money  for  them  to  spend  in  drink  ;  not  so  gen- 
erous, however,  as  to  cast  suspicion  upon  their 
story  of  being  traders  in  distress. 

Sailors  are  easily  persuaded  by  arguments 
that  are  enforced  by  small  presents  of  money. 
They  consented  to  the  plan,  and  then  the  king 
and  Lord  WUmot  went  to  exoress  their  wishe» 


1651.]         Escape    to    France.  195 


Approach  io  the  French  coast  An  alarm. 


to  the  oaptain.  He  made  many  objections.  It 
would  delay  him  on  his  voyage,  and  lead  to 
many  inconveniences.  The  passengers,  how- 
ever, urged  their  request,  the  sailors  seconding 
them.  The  wind  was  fair,  and  they  could  eas- 
ily run  across  the  Channel,  and  then,  after  they 
landed,  the  oaptain  could  pursue  his  course  to 
the  place  of  his  destination.  The  captain  final- 
ly consented ;  the  helm  was  altered,  the  sails 
were  trimmed,  and  the  little  vessel  bore  away 
toward  its  new  destination  on  the  coast  of 
France. 

It  was  now  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
The  English  coast  soon  disappeared  from  the 
iiorizon,  and  the  next  morning,  at  daylight, 
they  could  see  the  French  shore.  They  ap- 
proached the  land  at  a  little  port  called  Fecamp 
The  wind,  however,  failed  them  before  they  got 
quite  to  the  land,  and  they  had  to  anchor  to 
wait  for  a  turn  of  the  tide  to  help  them  in.  Id 
this  situation,  they  were  soon  very  much  alarm- 
ed by  the  appearance  of  a  vessel  in  the  oflfing, 
which  was  coming  also  toward  the  shore 
They  thought  it  was  a  Spanish  privateer,  and 
its  appearance  brought  a  double  apprehension. 
There  was  danger  that  the  privateer  would  cap- 
ture them,  France  and  Spain  beire  then  at 


196  King  Charles  IL  [1651 

I  eonraltatloii.  The  fugitives  landed  safely  on  the  French  shor8> 

war.  There  was  danger,  also,  that  the  master 
of  their  vessel,  afraid  himself  of  being  captured, 
might  insist  on  making  all  haste  back  again  to 
the  English  coast;  for  the  wind,  though  con- 
trary so  long  as  they  wished  to  go  on  into  their 
harbor,  was  fair  for  taking  them  away.  The 
king  and  Lord  Wilmot  consulted  together,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  to  go  ashore  in  the  lit- 
tle boat.  They  soon  made  a  bargain  with  the 
sailors  to  row  them,  and,  hastily  descending  the 
vessel's  side,  they  entered  the  boat,  and  pushed 
off  over  the  rolling  surges  of  the  Channel. 

They  were  two  miles  from  the  shore,  but 
they  reached  it  in  safety.  The  sailors  went 
back  to  the  vessel.  The  privateer  turned  out 
to  be  a  harmless  trader  coming  into  port.  The 
English  vessel  recrossed  the  Channel,  and  went 
on  to  its  original  port  of  destination ;  and  Lord 
Wilmot  and  the  king,  relieved  now  of  all  their 
anxieties  and  fears,  walked  in  their  strange  En- 
glish dress  up  into  the  village  to  the  inn. 


1651.J  The   Rbstoratiow.  197 

litWMt  felt  In  Charles's  wanderings.  New  daBf««& 


Chapter    IX. 

The   Restoration. 

A  S  the  readers  of  a  tale  are  generally  Ip- 
-^^  clined  to  sympathize  with  the  hero  of  it, 
both  in  his  joys  and  in  his  sorrows,  whether  he 
is  deserving  of  sympathy  or  not,  they  who  fol- 
low the  adventures  of  Charles  in  his  wanderings 
in  England  after  the  unfortunate  battle  of  Wor- 
cester, feel  ordinarily  quite  a  strong  sensation 
of  pleasure  at  finding  him  at  last  safely  landed 
on  the  French  shore.  Charles  himself  doubt- 
less experienced  at  first  an  overwhelming  emo- 
tion of  exultation  and  joy  at  having  thus  saved 
himself  from  the  desperate  dangers  of  his  con- 
dition in  England.  On  cool  reflection,  howev- 
er, he  soon  perceived  that  there  was  but  little 
cause  for  rejoicing  in  his  condition  and  pros- 
pects. There  were  dangers  and  suflerings 
enough  still  before  him,  different,  it  is  true, 
firom  those  in  which  he  had  been  involved,  but 
still  very  dark  and  threatening  in  character. 
He  had  now,  in  fact,  ten  years  of  privation, 
poverty,  and  exile  before  him,  full  uf  troubles 
from  beginning  to  end. 


198  Kino  Charles  II.  [1651 

Tk«  king  goM  to  ParU.  HU  raoeptknt  ther» 

The  new  series  of  troubles  began  to  come 
apon  him,  too,  very  soon.  When  he  and  his 
oompanion  went  up  to  the  inn,  on  the  morning 
of  their  landing,  dressed  as  they  were  in  the 
guise  of  Englishmen  of  humble  rank,  and  hav 
ing  been  put  ashore,  too,  from  a  vessel  which 
immediately  afterward  sailed  away,  they  were 
taken  for  English  thieves,  or  fugitives  from  jus- 
tice, and  refused  admission  to  the  inn.  They 
sent  to  some  gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood,  to 
whom  they  made  themselves  known,  so  that 
this  difficulty  was  removed,  their  urgent  wants 
were  supplied,  and  they  were  provided  with  thd 
means  of  transportation  to  Paris.  Of  course, 
the  mother  of  the  fugitive  monarch,  yet  almost 
ft  boy,  was  rejoiced  to  welcome  him,  but  he  re- 
ceived no  very  cordial  welcome  fr«>m  any  one 
else.  Now  that  Charles  had  finally  abandoned 
England,  his  adherents  there  gave  up  his  cause, 
of  course,  as  totally  lost.  The  Republicans, 
with  Cromwell  at  their  head,  established  a  very 
firm  and  efficient  government,  which  the  na- 
tions of  the  Continent  soon  began  to  find  that 
it  would  be  incumbent  on  them  to  respect.  For 
any  foreign  court  to  harbor  a  pretender  to  the 
British  crown,  when  there  was  an  established 
government  in  Ensrland  based  on  a  determina* 


1651.]  The    Restoration.  199 

The  king  renews  his  attentions  to  Anne  Maria.       Slie  dismisses  hU  snit 

tion  of  the  people  to  abrogate  royalty  altogeth- 
er, was  to  incur  very  considerable  political  dan- 
ger. Charles  soon  found  that,  under  these  cir- 
cumstances, he  was  not  likely  to  be  long  a  very 
welcome  guest  in  the  French  palaces. 

He  remained,  however,  in  Paris  for  a  short 
time,  endeavoring  to  find  some  way  to  retrieve 
his  ruined  fortunes.  Anne  Maria  was  still 
there,  and  he  attempted  to  renew  his  suit  to 
her.  She  listened  to  the  entertaining  stories 
which  he  told  of  his  dangers  and  escapes  in  En- 
gland, and  for  a  time,  as  Charles  thought,  en- 
couraged his  attentions.  In  fact,  at  one  time 
he  really  believed  that  the  affair  was  all  settled, 
and  began  to  assume  that  it  was  so  in  speaking 
with  her  upon  the  subject.  She,  however,  at 
.ength  undeceived  him,  in  a  conversation  which 
ended  with  her  saying  that  she  thought  he  had 
better  go  back  to  England,  and  "  either  get  his 
head  broken,  or  else  have  a  crown  upon  it." 
The  fact  was,  that  Anne  Maria  was  now  full 
of  a  new  scheme  for  being  married  to  Louis 
XIV.  himself,  who,  though  much  younger  than 
she,  had  attained  now  to  a  marriageable  age, 
and  she  had  no  intention  of  regarding  Charles 
in  any  othei^  light  than  as  one  of  the  ordinary 
crowd  of  her  admirers.     She  finally  extinguish* 


2U0  Kino  Charles  II.  [165& 

ChaiiM  diMcnM  with  hla  MMtbar.  He  goe*  t*  BoU«Dd. 

ed  all  his  hopes  by  coolly  requesting  him  not  to 
visit  her  so  frequently. 

In  addition  to  his  other  sources  of  discomfort, 
Charles  disagreed  with  his  mother.  She  was  a 
very  decided  Catholic,  and  he  a  Protestant, 
from  policy  it  is  true,  and  not  principle,  but  he 
was  none  the  less  rigid  and  inflexible  on  that 
account.  He  and  his  mother  disagreed  in  re- 
8})ect  to  the  education  of  the  younger  children. 
They  were  both  restricted  in  their  means,  too, 
and  subject  to  a  thousand  mortifications  from 
this  cause,  in  the  proud  and  haughty  circle  in 
which  they  moved.  Finally,  the  king  decided 
to  leave  Paris  altogether,  and  try  to  find  a  more 
comfortable  refuge  in  Holland. 

His  sister  and  her  husband,  the  Prince  of 
Orange,  had  always  treated  him,  as  well  as  all 
the  rest  of  the  family,  with  great  kindness  and 
attention ;  but  now,  to  complete  the  catalogue 
of  his  disasters,  the  Prince  of  Orange  died,  the 
power  of  the  government  passed  into  other  hands, 
and  Mary  found  herself  deprived  of  influenc« 
and  honor,  and  reduced  all  at  once  to  a  private 
station.  She  would  have  been  glad  to  continue 
her  protection  to  her  brother,  but  the  new  gov 
ernment  feared  the  power  of  Cromwell.  Crom- 
well sent  word  to  them  that  E norland  would 


1655.]  The  Restoration.  201 

CSharlM  ratlrM  to  Cologne.  Dcnrpation  of  Cramirvil 

consider  their  harboring  of  the  fugitive  as  tan- 
tamount to  a  declaration  of  war ;  sb  they  noti- 
fied Charles  that  he  must  leave  their  dominions, 
and  find,  if  he  could,  some  other  place  of  retreat. 
He  went  up  the  Rhine  to  the  city  of  Cologne^ 
where  it  is  said  he  found  a  widow  woman,  who 
received  him  as  a  lodger  without  pay,  trusting 
to  his  promise  to  recompense  her  at  some  future 
time.  There  is  generally  little  risk  in  giving 
credit  to  European  monarchs,  expelled  by  the 
temporary  triumph  of  Republicanism  from  their 
native  realms.  They  are  generally  pretty  cer- 
tain of  being  sooner  or  later  restored  to  their 
thrones. 

At  any  rate,  Charles  was  restored,  and  his 
restoration  was  effected  in  a  manner  wholly  un- 
expected to  all  mankind.  In  order  that  the  cir- 
cumstances may  be  clearly  understood,  the  read- 
er must  recall  it  to  mind  that  Charles  the  First 
had  been  deposed  and  beheaded  by  the  action  of 
a  Parliament,  and  that  this  Parliament  was, 
of  course,  at  his  death  the  depository  of  sover- 
eign power  in  England.  In  a  short  time,  how- 
ever, the  army,  with  Cromwell  at  its  head,  be- 
came  too  strong  for  the  Parliament.  Cromwell 
assumed  the  supreme  power  under  the  name 
«•{  the  Protector.    He  dissolved  Parliament,  and 


202  King   Charles   II.  [1655 

OepoBition  of  Richard  CromwelL  'X^olenc*  of  Lambert 

expelled  the  members  from  their  seats.  He  gov- 
emed  the  country  as  protector  for  many  years, 
and  when  at  length  he  died,  his  son  Richard 
Cromwell  attempted  to  take  his  place.  Rich- 
ard did  not,  however,  possess  the  talent  and  en- 
ergy of  his  father,  and  he  soon  found  himself 
totally  inadequate  to  manage  the  affairs  of  gov- 
ernment in  such  stormy  times.  He  wtis  de- 
posed, and  the  old  Parliament  which  CromweU 
had  broken  up  was  restored. 

There  followed,  then,  a  new  contest  between 
the  Parliament  and  the  army,  with  an  officer 
named  Lambert  at  the  head  of  the  latter.  The 
army  proved  the  strongest.  Lambert  stationed 
guards  in  the  streets  leading  to  the  Parliament 
House  one  day  when  the  members  were  about 
to  assemble,  and  turned  the  members  all  back 
as  they  came.  When  the  speaker  arrived  in 
his  carriage,  he  ordered  his  soldiers  to  take  hold 
of  the  horses'  heads  and  turn  them  round,  and 
lead  them  home  again.  Thus  there  was  no  ac- 
tual outward  violence,  but  the  members  of  Par- 
liament were  intimllated,  and  gave  up  the  at- 
tempt to  exercise  their  power,  though  they  still 
reserved  their  claim,  and  their  party  was  busy 
til  over  the  kingdom  in  attempting  to  restore 
them  to  their  functions.     In  the  mean  time,  the 


1655.]  The   Restoration.  203 

4ffalri  in  England.  No  true  repvbUo  th«ir» 

array  appointed  a  sort  of  council,  which  they 
invested  with  supreme  authority. 

It  does  not  come  within  the  scope  and  design 
of  this  volume  to  give  a  full  account  of  the  state 
of  public  affairs  during  the  interregnum  between 
the  death  of  Charles  I.  and  the  Restoration  of 
the  monarchy  under  Charles  II.,  nor  of  the 
points  of  controversy  at  issue  among  the  vari- 
ous parties  formed.  The  reader,  however,  must 
not  suppose  that,  during  this  period,  there  waa 
at  any  time  what  could,  with  any  propriety,  be 
called  a  republic.  A  true  republic  exists  only 
where  the  questions  of  government  are  fairly 
and  honorably  submitted  to  the  whole  popula- 
tion, with  a  universal  disposition  to  acquiesce 
peaceably  in  the  decision  of  the  majority,  when 
that  is  6iscertained.  There  probably  has  never 
been  any  such  state  of  things  as  this  in  any 
country  of  Europe  since  the  Christian  era. 
There  certainly  was  no  such  state  of  things  in 
England  in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth. 
There  were  a  great  many  persons  who  wished 
to  have  it  so,  and  who  called  themselves  Re- 
publicans ;  but  their  plan,  if  that  were  indeed 
their  plan,  was  never  tried.  Very  likely  it  waa 
not  practicable  to  try  it.  At  any  rate,  it  cer- 
tainly was  not  tried      The  sovereignty  taken 


204  Kino  Charles  II.  [1658. 

Ae  PuilanMBL  The  army.  CromweD. 

from  the  Stuart  dynasty  in  the  person  of  Charles 
[.  was  never  vested  in  the  people  at  larg-e.  It 
was  seized  forcibly  by  the  various  powers  al- 
ready existing  in  the  state,  as  they  found  them- 
selves, one  after  another,  able  to  seize  it.  The 
Parliament  took  it  from  Charles.  The  armj 
took  it  from  Parliament.  Then  Oliver  Crom- 
well took  it  from  the  army.  He  found  himself 
strong  enough  to  hold  it  as  long  as  he  lived, 
and  when  he  died  he  delivered  it  to  his  son 
Richard.  Richard  could  not  hold  it.  The  Par- 
liament rose  to  a  sort  of  supplementary  exist- 
ence, and  took  it  from  Richard,  and  then  the 
army  took  it  from  Parliament  again.  Finally, 
General  Monk  appeared  upon  the  stage  in  Scot- 
land, as  we  shall  presently  see,  marched  down 
through  England,  and,  with  the  help  of  thou- 
sands and  thousands  who  were  tired  of  these 
endless  changes,  took  it  from  the  army  and  re- 
stored it  once  more  to  the  Parliament,  on  con- 
dition of  their  placing  it  back  again  in  the  hands 
of  the  king.  Thus  there  was  no  repubDc  at  all, 
fram  beginning  to  end. 

Nor  is  it  at  all  certain  that  there  ought  to 
have  been.  The  difficulties  of  really,  truly,  and 
honestly  laying  the  national  sovereignty  in  the 
hands  of  the  whole  population  of  such  a  realm 


L655.]  The   Restoration.  205 


Oreat  difficulties  In  the  way  of  organizing  a  republic. 

•d  England,  and  of  so  organizing  the  population 
that  its  decisions  shall  actually  control  the  legis- 
lation of  the  country  and  the  public  admuiistra- 
tion  of  its  affairs,  are  all  but  insuperable.  The 
English  people  found  the  t3nranny  and  oppres- 
sion of  royalty  intolerable.  They  arose  and  set 
royalty  aside.  It  devolved,  then,  on  the  next 
strongest  power  in  the  state  to  assume  the  au- 
thority thus  divested ;  this  was  the  Parliament, 
who  governed,  just  as  the  king  had  done,  by 
the  exercise  of  their  own  superior  power,  keep- 
ing the  mass  of  the  community  just  where  they 
were  before.  It  is  true  that  many  individuals 
ji  very  low  rank  rose  to  positions  of  great  pow- 
3r ;  but  they  represented  only  a  party,  and 
the  power  they  wielded  was  monarchical  power 
usurped,  not  Republican  power  fairly  conferred 
upon  them.  Thus,  though  in  the  time  of  the 
Commonwealth  there  were  plenty  of  Republi- 
cans, there  weis  never  a  republic.  It  has  al- 
ways been  so  in  all  European  revolutions.  In 
America,  Legislatures  and  executive  officers  of 
state  are  only  agents,  through  whom  the  great 
population  itself  quietly  executes  its  will,  the 
two  millions  of  votes  in  the  great  elections  be- 
ing the  real  power  by  which  every  thing  is  con- 
trolled.    But  Cromwell,  Napoleon,  Lamartina 


806                King  Charles  II. 

[i659 

PartiM  In  England. 

Oenerik  Monk 

Cavaignao,  and  all  the  others,  whatever  formal- 
ities of  voting  may  have  attended  their  inJuo- 
tioE  into  office,  have  always  really  held  their 
power  by  force  of  bayonets,  not  of  ballots.  There 
is  great  danger  that  it  will  continue  so  in  Eu- 
rope for  a  long  time  to  come. 

But  to  return.  It  was  in  1659  when  the  ar 
my,  with  Lambert  at  its  head,  expelled  the  Par- 
liament. All  England  was  now  divided  into 
parties,  some  for  the  Parliament,  some  for  the 
army,  some  for  the  king.  There  was  a  distin- 
guished general  in  Scotland  at  this  time  named 
Monk.  He  had  been  left  there  by  Cromwell  in 
command  of  the  military  forces  in  that  country. 
He  was  a  man  considerably  advanced  in  life,  and 
af  great  circumspection,  prudence,  and  steadi- 
ness of  character.  All  parties  wished  to  gain 
his  influence,  but  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  and 
declared  openly  for  neither. 

He,  however,  began  to  get  together  his  for- 
ces, and  to  make  preparations  to  march  inte 
England.  People  asked  him  what  he  intended 
to  do,  but  he  would  give  no  definite  answer. 
He  was  six  weeks  getting  ready  for  his  expedi- 
tion,  during  which  time  many  deputations  were 
sent  to  him  from  the  various  parties,  making 
different  propositions  to  him,  each  party  being 


1660.J  The   Restoration.  207 

Monk  marchea  to  England.  Toe  ParUaawnt  raatered. 

eager  to  obtain  his  adhesion  to  their  canse.  He 
received  all  tlieir  deputations,  heard  what  they 
had  to  say,  made  no  definite  reply  to  any  of 
them,  but  went  on  quietly  with  his  work.  He 
got  the  various  divisions  of  his  army  at  length 
together,  made  provisional  arrangements  for  the 
government  of  Scotland  during  his  absence,  and 
set  out  on  his  march. 

He  entered  England  in  January,  1660,  and 
advanced  toward  London.  The  English  army 
was  scattered  all  over  the  kingdom ;  but  Monk 
opened  negotiations  with  the  leaders  of  it,  and 
also  with  the  members  of  Parliament,  and,  with- 
out committing  himself  absolutely  to  either  par- 
ty, he  managed  to  have  the  Parliament  restor- 
ed. They  assembled  peaceably  in  London,  and 
resumed  their  functions.  A  part  of  the  En 
glish  army  was  there  for  their  protection. 
Monk,  as  he  approached  London,  sent  word  to 
Parliament  asking  that  quarters  might  be  pro 
vided  for  him  and  his  army  there.  Parliament, 
desirous  of  conciliating  him  and  securing  his 
oo-operation  in  sustaining  their  power,  acceded 
to  this  request.  The  other  troops  were  remov- 
ed ;  Monk  entered  Lcndon  in  triumph,  and  took 
possession  of  all  the  strong-holds  there,  holding 
them  nominally  under  Parliamentary  authority 


206  Kino  Charles  II.  [1660 

Honk'i  adroit  management  A  oew  Parliament  eaOed 

MonK  still  kept  his  ultimate  designs  pro. 
fonndly  secret.  No  party  very  strongly  op- 
posed him,  for  no  party  know  whether  to  r^ 
gard  him  as  an  enemy  or  a  friend.  The  Roy- 
alists, however,  all  over  the  kingdom,  took  new 
courage,  and  a  general  expectation  began  to 
pervade  the  minds  of  men  that  the  monarchy 
was  to  be  restored.  The  Parliament  rescinded 
the  votes  which  had  been  most  decisive  against 
the  house  of  Stuart  and  monarchical  rule.  The 
most  prominent  Republicans  were  dismissed 
from  office  under  various  pretexts,  and  men 
known  tx)  be  loyal  were  appointed  in  their  place. 
Finally,  the  Parliament  itself  was  dissolved,  and 
writs  were  issued  for  the  election  of  a  new  one, 
more  in  accordance  with  the  ancient  forms. 

When  at  length  this  new  Parliament  assem« 
bled,  the  public  mind  was  in  a  great  fever  of 
exoiteinent,  there  being  a  vague  expectation 
every  where  that  the  monarchy  was  to  be  re- 
stored, while  yet  the  Restoration  was  openly 
spoken  of  by  no  one.  The  first  votes  which 
"Were  taken  in  the  House  of  Commons  indicated 
a  very  favorable  state  of  feeling  toward  monar- 
chy ;  and  at  length,  a  few  days  after  the  open- 
ing of  the  session,  it  was  announced  that  there 
was  a  messenger  at  the  door  with  a  communi- 


1660.]  The   Restoration.  209 

Mewnngor  from  the  king.  The  kioi'i  DeelanttoK 

oation  from  the  king.  The  announoement  was 
received  with  the  wildest  acclamations  of  joy. 
The  messenger  was  immediately  ordered  to  en- 
ter. The  communication  was  read,  the  vast  as- 
•embly  listening  with  breathless  attention. 

It  contained,  in  the  first  place,  a  letter,  in 
which  the  king  stated  that,  having  heard  that 
the  people  of  England  had  restored  the  Parlia- 
ment according  to  the  ancient  forms,  he  hoped 
that  now  the  Parliament  would  go  on  and  com- 
plete the  good  work  which  had  been  begun,  and 
heal  the  distractions  of  the  kingdom  by  rein- 
stating him  as  sovereign  in  the  ancient  rights 
and  prerogatives  of  the  crown. 

The  second  part  of  the  king's  communication, 
and  by  far  the  most  important  part,  was  what 
was  called  his  Declaration,  a  document  in  which 
he  announced  formally  what  his  intentions  were 
in  case  he  were  restored  to  the  throne.  One  of 
these  assurances  was,  that  he  was  ready  to  for- 
give and  forget  the  past,  so  far  as  he  might  him- 
self be  supposed  to  have  cause  of  complaint 
against  any  of  his  subjects  for  the  part  they  had 
taken  in  the  late  transactions.  He  professed 
his  readiness  to  grant  a  free  pardon  to  all,  ex- 
cepting those  who  should  be  expressly  excluded 
from  such  pardon  by  the  Parliament  itself. 
23—14 


210  Kins  Charles  XL 

PrtMiplMortkektiig'tDMlandcM.  General  Htkftedaa 

The  Declaration  also  set  forth  that,  mas- 
much  as  there  was  preyailing  throughout  tht 
country  a  great  diversity  of  religious  opinion, 
the  king,  if  restored  to  his  throne,  whatever  hi> 
own  religious  views  or  those  of  his  government 
might  be,  would  agree  that  his  subjects  should 
be  allowed  full  liberty  of  conscience  in  all  re- 
spects, and  that  nobody  should  be  molested  in 
any  way  on  account  of  his  religious  faith  or 
usages  of  worship. 

And,  finally,  the  Declaration  contained  a  cov- 
enant on  the  part  of  the  king,  that  whereas 
there  had  been  great  changes  of  property,  aris- 
ing from  fines  and  confiscations  for  political  of- 
fenses during  the  period  of  the  Revolution,  be 
would  not  himself  disturb  the  existing  titles  to 
property,  but  would  leave  them  to  be  settled 
on  such  principles  and  in  such  a  way  as  Parlia* 
ment  should  direct. 

The  letter  firom  the  king,  and  especially  the 
Declaration,  gave  the  utmost  satisfaction.  'The 
latter  disarmed  those  who  would  otherwise  have 
opposed  the  return  of  the  king,  by  quieting  theii 
fears  of  being  disturbed  in  respect  to  their  lib- 
erty or  their  property.  Immediately  after  these 
papers  were  read,  they  were  ordered  to  be  pub- 
lished, and  were  sent  every  where  throughout 


1660.J  Thb   Restoration.  211 

CharlM  proetelmed  kJsf .  Uoatij  toML 

the  kingdom,  awakening,  wherever  they  went, 
the  greatest  demonstrations  of  joy.  Tho  Par- 
liament passed  a  vote  that  the  ancient  Consti- 
tntion  of  the  kingdom,  of  government  by  king, 
Lords,  and  Commons,  onght  to  be  restored,  and 
they  went  forth  in  a  body  into  the  public  places 
of  the  city  to  proclaim  Charles  II.  king. 

Parliament  voted  immediately  a  grant  of  fifty 
thousand  pounds,  a  sum  equal  to  more  than  two 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  for  the  king's  imme- 
diate use,  with  large  sums  besides  for  the  other 
members  of  the  family,  and  sent  a  committee 
of  noblemen  to  Holland  to  carry  the  money  and 
to  invite  the  king  back  to  his  dominions.  As 
soon  as  tidings  of  these  events  reached  the  Con- 
tinent, every  body  hastened  to  pay  their  court 
to  his  majesty.  From  being  neglected,  desti- 
tute, and  wretched,  he  suddenly  found  himself 
elevated  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  prosperity 
and  fame.  Every  body  offered  him  their  aid ; 
his  court  was  thronged,  and  all  were  ready  to 
do  him  honor.  The  princely  mother  of  one  of 
the  young  ladies  who  had  rejected  the  offer  of 
his  hand  in  the  day  of  his  adversity,  sent  him 
an  intimation  that  the  offer  would  be  accepted 
If  he  would  renew  it  now. 

A  fleet  crossed  the  Channel  to  receive  the  king 


212  KtNG  Charles   II.  [1660 

Hie  king  mrrire*  In  London.  Monk  made  Duke  of  Albenurla 

and  convey  him  tx)  London.  His  brother  James* 
the  Duke  of  York,  was  placed  in  command  of  it 
as  Loril  High  Admiral  of  England.  The  fleet 
•ailed  for  Dover.  General  Monk  went  to  Dover 
tc  receive  the  king  at  his  landing.  He  escorted 
him  to  London,  where  the  monarch,  returning 
5"om  his  long  exile,  arrived  on  the  twenty-ninth 
of  May,  the  very  day  when  he  became  thirty 
years  of  age. 

General  Monk,  whose  talent,  skill,  and  con- 
summate management  had  been  the  means  of 
effecting  this  great  change  without  violence  or 
bloodshed,  was  rewarded  by  being  made  Duke 
of  Albemarle.  This  was  a  very  great  reward. 
In  fact,  no  American  imagination  can  conceive 
of  the  images  of  glory  and  grandeur  which  are 
connected  in  the  mind  of  an  Englishman  with 
the  idea  of  being  made  a  duke.  A  duke  lives 
in  a  palace;  he  is  surrounded  by  a  court;  he 
expends  princely  revenues ;  he  reigns,  in  fact, 
often,  so  far  as  the  pomp  and  pleasure  of  reign- 
ing are  concerned,  over  quite  a  little  kingdom, 
and  is  looked  up  to  by  the  millions  beneath  his 
grade  with  a  reverence  as  great,  at  leeist,  as  that 
with  which  the  ancients  looked  up  to  their  gods 
He  is  deprived  of  nothing  which  pertains  to  pow 
er  but  the  mere  toil,  and  care,  and  responsibili^ 


Chables  the  Second. 


1660.]  The   Restoration.  215 

nortoi  of  •  dnkadom.  MotlTea  of  Monk 

»f  ruling,  so  that  he  has  all  the  sweetness  and 
fragrance  of  sovereignty  without  its  thorns.  In 
a  word,  the  seat  of  an  English  duke,  so  far  a.h 
earthly  greatness  and  glory  are  concerned,  is 
undoubtedly  the  finest  which  ambition,  wealth, 
and  power  combined  have  ever  succeeded  in 
carving  out  for  man.  It  is  infinitely  better 
than  a  throne. 

Some  historians  maintain  that  Monk  acted  on 
a  secret  understanding  with  Charles  from  the 
commencement ;  that  the  general  was  to  restore 
the  king,  and  was  then  to  receive  a  dukedom  for 
his  reward.  Others  say  that  he  acted  from  a 
simple  sense  of  duty  in  all  that  he  did,  and  that 
the  lofty  elevation  to  which  he  was  raised  was 
a  very  natural  and  suitable  testimonial  of  the 
royal  gratitude.  The  reader  will  embrace  the 
one  or  the  other  of  the  two  theories,  according 
to  the  degree  of  readiness  or  of  reluctance  with 
which  he  believes  in  the  existence  of  oonsoien- 
tioos  principles  of  patriotism  and  loyalty  among 
the  great  men  who  rule  the  world 


216  Kino  Charles  II.  [166a 

Tariona  marriage  negotiati^Qa.  Matins 


Chapter   X. 

The    Marriage. 

"P|URING  the  period  of  King  Charles's  days 
•*--'  of  adversity  he  made  many  fraitless  at- 
tempts to  obtain  a  wife.  He  was  rejected  by 
all  the  young  ladies  to  whom  he  made  propo- 
sals. Marriages  in  that  grade  of  sooiety  are 
almost  always  mere  transactions  of  business, 
being  governed  altogether  by  political  and  pru- 
dential considerations.  In  all  Charles's  propo- 
sals he  w£is  aiming  simply  at  strengthening  his 
own  position  by  means  of  the  wealth  or  family 
influence  of  the  bride,  supposing  as  he  did  that 
the  honor  of  being  even  nominally  a  queen 
would  be  a  sufficient  equivalent  to  the  lady. 
The  ladies  themselves,  however,  to  whom  he 
addressed  himself,  or  their  friends,  thought  that 
the  prospect  of  his  being  really  restored  to  his 
throne  was  very  remote  and  uncertain,  and,  in 
the  mean  time,  the  empty  name  of  queen  was 
not  worth  as  much  as  a  rich  and  powerful  heir- 
ess, by  becoming  his  bride,  would  have  to  pay 
for  it. 

After  his  restoration,  however,  all  this  war 


1660.]  The  Marriaob.  217 

GatiiaitM  of  Braganit.  Plana  of  Qaeaa  HanriaMik 

changed.  There  was  no  longer  any  difficulty 
He  had  now  only  to  choose.  In  fact,  one  or 
two  who  had  refused  him  when  he  was  a  fugi- 
fcive  and  an  exile  thought  differently  of  the  case 
now  that  he  was  a  king,  and  one  of  them,  as 
has  already  been  said,  gave  him  intimations, 
through  her  friends,  that  if  he  were  inclined 
to  renew  his  suit,  he  would  be  more  snocessfol. 
Charles  rejected  these  overtures  with  indignant 
disdain. 

The  lady  whom  he  ultimately  married  was 
a  Portuguese  princess.  Her  father  was  King 
of  Portugal,  but  before  his  accession  to  the 
throne  his  title  had  been  the  Duke  of  Braganza. 
The  name  of  his  daughter  was  Catharine.  She 
is  thus  known  generally  in  history  by  the  name 
of  Catharine  of  Braganza. 

It  is  said  that  the  plan  of  this  marriage  orig- 
inated with  Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  and  that 
a  prominent  motive  with  her  ir  promoting  the 
measure  was  her  desire  to  secure  for  Charles 
a  Catholic  wife.  Catharine  of  Braganza  was  a 
Catholic.  Henrietta  Maria  was  deeply  inter- 
ested, and  no  doubt  conscientiously  so,  in  bring- 
ing  back  her  own  family  and  their  descendants, 
and  the  realm  of  England,  if  possible,  to  the 
noient  faith ;   and  this  question  of  the  mar- 


219  King  Charles  II.  [IbbO 

Bearietta'i  riait  to  England.  Her  Jo;rM  eraotton* 

riage  of  her  son  she  justly  considered  wonld 
have  a  very  important  bearing  on  the  result. 

Queen  Henrietta  is  said  to  have  laid  her  ar- 
rangements in  train  for  opening  the  negotiation 
vsrith  the  Portuguese  princess,  at  a  visit  which 
she  made  to  England  in  1660,  very  soon  after 
her  son's  restoration.  The  Restoration  took 
place  in  May.  The  queen's  visit  to  her  son 
was  in  October.  Of  course,  after  all  the  long 
years  of  danger,  privation,  and  suffering  which 
this  family  had  endured,  the  widowed  mother 
felt  an  intense  emotion  of  joy  at  finding  her  chil- 
dren once  more  restored  to  what  she  considered 
their  just  hereditary  rights.  Charles  was  on  the 
English  throne.  James,  the  Duke  of  York,  was 
Lord  High  Admiral  of  England,  that  is,  the 
commander-in-chief  of  the  naval  forces  of  the 
realm ;  and  her  other  children,  those  who  were 
still  living,  were  in  peace  and  safety.  Of  course, 
her  heart  was  full  of  maternal  pride  and  joy. 

Her  son  James,  the  Lord  High  Admiral,  wenk 
across  the  Channel  io  Dover,  with  a  fleet  of  the 
finest  ships  that  he  could  select  from  the  whole 
British  navy,  to  escort  his  mother  to  Eagland. 
The  queen  was  to  embark  at  Calais.*     The 

*  For  a  view  of  the  famous  Calais  pier,  lee  History  of  Mar^ 
Qneen  of  Scots,  page  105. 


1660.]  The    Marriage.  219 

n*  EagU^  Beet  Calm  on  tiie  Ch«ia«L 

qneen  came  down  to  the  port  from  Paris,  at- 
tended by  many  friends,  who  sympathized  with 
her  in  the  return  of  her  prosperity,  and  were 
attracted,  besides,  by  the  grtmd  speotacle  which 
they  thonght  would  be  presented  by  the  appear- 
ance and  maneuvers  of  the  English  ships,  and 
the  ceremony  of  the  embarkation. 

The  waters  of  the  English  Channel  are  dis- 
turbed by  almost  perpetual  agitations,  which 
bleak  winds  and  rapid  tides,  struggling  contin- 
aally  together,  combine  to  raise ;  and  many  a 
traveler,  who  passes  in  comfort  across  the  At- 
lantic, is  made  miserable  by  the  incessant  rest- 
lessness of  this  narrow  sea.  At  the  time,  how- 
ever, when  Henrietta  Maria  crossed  it,  the  wa- 
ters  for  once  were  calm.  The  people  who  as- 
sembled upon  the  pier  to  witness  the  embarka- 
tion looked  over  the  expanse  before  them,  and 
saw  it  lying  smooth,  every  where,  as  glass,  and 
reflecting  the  great  English  ships  which  lay  at 
a  little  distance  from  the  shore  as  if  it  were  a 
mirror.  It  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  October 
morning.  The  air  seemed  perfectly  motionless. 
The  English  ships  were  adorned  with  countless 
flags  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  but  they  all  hung 
down  perfectly  lifeless  upon  the  masts  and  rig- 
ging.     Scarcely  a  ripple  rolled  upon  the  beach : 


220  Kino  Charles  II.  [16G0 

ne  qasen  embarlu.  The  fleet  Mti  Nil 

and  80  silent  and  still  was  the  morning  air,  that 
the  voices  and  echoes  came  from  vast  distances 
along  the  shore,  and  the  dip  of  the  oars  of  the 
boats  gliding  about  in  the  offing  sent  its  sonnd 
for  miles  around  over  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
sea  ;  and  when  the  grand  salute  was  fired  at  the 
embarkation  of  the  queen,  the  reverberation  of 
the  guns  was  heard  distinctly,  it  was  said,  at 
Dover,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles. 

Even  in  such  a  calm  as  this,  however,  un- 
common as  it  is,  the  atmosphere  is  not  perfect- 
ly stUl.  When  the  royal  party  were  on  board 
the  vessels  and  the  sails  were  set,  the  fleet  did 
begin  to  glide,  almost  imperceptibly,  it  is  true, 
away  from  the  shore.  In  the  course  of  the  day 
they  had  receded  several  miles  from  the  land, 
and  when  the  dinner  hour  arrived  they  found 
that  the  lord  admiral  had  provided  a  most  sump* 
tuous  banquet  on  board.  Just  before  the  time, 
however,  for  setting  down  to  the  table,  the  duke 
found  that  it  was  a  Catholic  fast  day,  and  that 
neither  his  mother  nor  any  of  her  attendants, 
being,  as  they  were,  all  Catholics,  could  eat  any 
thing  but  fish ;  and,  unfortunately,  as  aU  James'» 
men  were  Protestants,  they  had  not  thought  of 
the  fast,  and  they  had  no  fish  on  board.  They, 
however,  contrived  to  produce  a  sturgeon  for  th# 


1660.]  The  Marriage  221 

Landing  of  Henrietta.  Reception  bj  CharieA 

queen,  and  they  sat  down  to  the  table,  the  queen 
to  the  dish  provided  for  her,  and  the  others  to 
bread  and  vegetables,  and  such  other  food  as  the 
Catholic  ritual  allowed,  while  the  duke  himself 
and  hia  brother  officers  disposed,  as  well  as  they 
could,  of  the  more  luxurious  dainties  which  they 
had  intended  for  their  guests. 

With  a  fair  wind,  three  hours  is  sufficient  for 
the  run  from  Calais  to  Dover.  It  took  the  Duke 
of  York  two  days  to  get  his  fleet  across  in  this 
calm.  At  length,  however,  they  arrived.  The 
king  was  on  the  pier  to  receive  his  mother.  Re- 
joiced as  her  majesty  must  have  been  to  be  wel- 
comed by  her  son  under  such  circumstances, 
she  must  have  thought  mournfully  of  her  de- 
parted husband  at  the  time  of  her  landing,  for 
it  was  here  that  he  had  taken  leave  of  her  some 
years  before,  when  the  troubles  of  her  family 
were  beginning.*  Charles  conducted  his  moth- 
er to  the  castle.  All  the  inhabitants  of  Dover, 
aud  of  the  country  around,  had  assembled  to 
witness  the  arrival,  and  they  welcomed  the 
mother  back  to  the  land  of  her  husband  and  her 
sons  with  long  and  loud  acclamations. 

There  was  a  great  banquet  at  Dover  Castle. 
Here  all  the  members  of  the  royal  family  were 

*  For  •  new  of  Dover  and  the  Castle,  see  page  36. 


222  KiMo  Cra&lbs  II.  [166U 

Great  banquet  at  Dover  Castle.  The  dlTliM  hle—lng 

present,  having  been  assembled  for  the  occasion. 
Of  course,  it  was  an  occasion  of  great  family 
rejoicing,  mingled  undoubtedly,  on  the  part  of 
the  queen,  with  many  mournful  thoughts  and 
bitter  recollections.     The  fast  was  past,  and 
there  was,  consequently,  no  difficulty  now  about 
partaking  of  the  food  that  had  been  provided ; 
but  another  difficulty  arose,  having  the  same 
origin,  viz.,  the  question  whether  the  divine 
blessing  should  be  implored  upon  the  food  by  a 
Catholic  priest  or  an  Episcopal  chaplain.     Nei 
ther  party  could  conscientiously  acquiesce  in 
the  performance  of  the  service  by  the  other. 
They  settled  the  important  question,  or  rather 
it  settled  itself  at  last,  in  the  following  manner: 
When  the  guests  were  ready  to  take  their  pla- 
ces at  table,  the  king,  instead  of  asking  his 
mother's  spiritual  guide  to  officiate,  as  both 
Christian  and  filial  courtesy  required  him  to 
have  done,  called  upon  his  own  chaplain.     The 
chaplain  said  grace.     Immediately  afterward, 
the  Catholic  priest,  thinking  that  fidelity  to  hii 
own  religious  faith  required  him  to  act  decided- 
ly, repeated  the  service  in  the  Catholic  fonn, 
ending  with  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  a 
very  conspicuous  manner  over  the  table.     The 
gentry  of  Dover,  who  had  been  admitted  M 


i660.J  The  Marriage.  223 

H«nri«tt»  proeeeda  to  London.  Hei  onhmppinoM 

spectators  of  this  banquet,  were  greatly  soan- 
dalized  at  this  deed.  They  regarded  the  ges- 
ture as  an  act  of  very  wicked  and  very  danger* 
ous  idolatry. 

From  Dover  the  queen  proceeded  with  her 
children  to  London.  Her  sons  did  every  thing 
in  their  power  to  honor  their  mother's  visit; 
they  received  her  with  great  parade  and  pomp, 
assigned  her  a  sumptuous  residence,  and  stud- 
ied every  means  of  amusing  her,  and  of  making 
her  visit  a  source  of  pleasure.  But  they  did  not 
succeed.  The  queen  was  very  unhappy.  Ev- 
ery place  that  she  visited  recalled  to  her  mind 
the  memory  of  her  husband,  and  awakened 
afresh  all  her  sorrows.  She  was  distressed,  too, 
by  some  domestic  troubles,  which  we  have  not 
here  time  to  describe.  Then  the  religious  dif- 
ferences between  herself  and  her  children,  and 
the  questions  which  were  arising  out  of  them 
continually,  gave  her  a  great  deal  of  pain ;  she 
could  not  but  perceive,  moreover,  that  she  was 
regarded  with  suspicion  and  dislike  by  the  people 
of  England  on  account  of  her  Catholic  faith 
Then,  besides,  notwithstanding  her  English  hus- 
band and  her  English  childxen,  she  was  her* 
self  a  French  woman  still  in  character,  thought, 
feeling,  and  language,  and  she  could  not  fee. 


224  Kino  Charles  II.  [1661 

Benrletta  retarni  ko  France.  Catharine  of  Bragansa. 

really  at  home  north  of  the  Channel.  After  re- 
maining, therefore,  a  few  months  in  London, 
and  arranging  some  family  and  business  affairs 
which  required  her  attention,  she  determined 
to  return.  The  king  accompanied  her  to  Ports- 
mouth, where  she  set  sail,  taking  the  little  prin- 
cess Henrietta  with  her,  and  went  back  to 
France.  Among  the  family  affairs,  however, 
which  she  arranged,  it  is  said  that  the  marriage 
of  her  son,  the  king,  was  a  special  object  of  her 
attention,  and  that  she  secretly  laid  the  train 
which  resulted  in  his  espousing  Catharine  of 
Braganza. 

According  to  the  accounts  given  in  the  chron- 
icles of  the  times,  the  negotiations  were  opened 
in  the  following  manner :  One  day  the  Portu- 
guese embassador  at  London  came  to  a  certain 
high  officer  of  the  king's  household,  and  intro- 
duced the  subject  of  his  majesty's  marriage,  say- 
ing, in  the  course  of  the  conversation,  that  he 
thought  the  Princess  Catharine  of  Portugal 
would  be  a  very  eligible  match,  and  adding 
moreover,  that  he  was  authorized  to  say  that, 
with  the  lady,  very  advantageous  terms  could  be 
offered.  Charles  said  he  would  think  of  it.  This 
gave  the  embassador  sufficient  encouragement 
to  induce  him  to  take  another  step.     He  ob 


1661.]  The  Marriaoe.  225 

OMkarla)  oAiBred  to  Ckarlea.  AdTtntageou  terms. 

tained  an  audience  of  Charles  the  next  day,  and 
proposed  the  subject  directly  for  his  considera- 
tion. The  embassador  knew  very  well  that  the 
question  would  turn,  in  Charles's  mind,  on  the 
pecuniary  and  political  advantages  of  the  match ; 
so  he  stated  at  once  what  they  would  be.  He 
was  authorized  to  offer,  he  said,  the  sum  of  five 
hundred  thousand  pounds*  as  the  princess's  por- 
tion, and  to  surrender  to  the  English  crown  va- 
rious foreign  possessions,  which  had,  tUl  then, 
belonged  to  the  Portuguese.  One  of  the  prin- 
oipal  of  these  was  the  island  of  Bombay  in  the 
East  Indies.  Another  was  Tangier,  a  port  in 
Africa.  The  English  did  not,  at  that  time, 
hold  any  East  Indian  territories.  He  likewise 
offered  to  convey  to  the  English  nation  the  right 
of  trading  with  the  great  South  American  coun- 
try of  BrazU,  which  then  pertained  to  the  Por- 
tuguese crown. 

Charles  was  very  much  pleased  with  these 
proposals.  He  immediately  consulted  his  prin- 
cipal minister  of  staiJe,  Lord  Clarendon,  the  cel- 
ebrated historian,  and  soon  afterward  called  a 
meeting  of  his  privy  council  and  laid  the  case 
before  them.  Clarendon  eisked  him  if  he  had 
given  up  all  thoughts  of  a  Protestant  oonnec- 

*  Equal  to  two  or  three  millioiiB  of  dollan. 
23—15 


226  Kino  Charles  IL  [1661 

Chvlei  oonsnltB  his  ministers.  Their  opinion  favorabla 

tion.  Charles  said  that  he  did  not  know  where 
to  look  for  a  Protestant  wife.  It  was  true,  in 
fact,  that  nearly  all  the  royal  families  of  Eu- 
rope were  Catholics,  and  royal  bridegrooms  must 
always  have  royal  brides.  There  were,  how- 
ever, Protestant  princesses  in  Germany  ;  this 
was  suggested  to  his  majesty,  but  he  replied, 
with  an  expression  of  contempt,  that  they  were 
all  dull  and  foggy,  and  he  could  not  possibly 
have  one  of  them  for  a  wife. 

The  counselors  then  began  to  look  at  the  pe- 
cuniary and  political  advantages  of  the  proposed 
bargain.  They  got  out  their  maps,  and  showed 
Charles  where  Bombay,  and  Tangier,  and  the 
other  places  offered  with  the  lady  as  her  dowry 
lay.  The  statesmen  were  quite  pleased  with 
the  prospect  of  these  acquisitions,  and  Charles 
was  particularly  gratified  with  the  money  item. 
It  was  twice  as  much,  they  said,  as  any  En- 
glish king  had  ever  before  received  as  the  mar 
riage  portion  of  a  bride.  In  a  word,  the  prop- 
osition was  unanimously  considered  as  in  every 
respect  entirely  satisfactory,  and  Charles  au» 
thorized  his  minister?  to  open  the  negotiations 
(or  the  marriage  immediately.  All  this  time 
Chfirles  had  never  seen  the  lady,  and  perhaps 
had  never  heard  ?f  her  before.     Her  own  indi" 


1661.)  The    Marriage.  227 

Charles'!  ideaa  of  married  life.  Lady  Caatlemalne. 

vidual  qualifications,  whether  of  mind  or  of  per- 
son, seem  to  have  been  considered  a  subject  not 
worth  inquiring  about  at  all. 

Nor  ought  we  to  be  at  all  surprised  at  this. 
It  was  not  Charles's  object,  in  seeking  a  wife,  to 
find  some  one  whom  he  was  to  cherish  and  love, 
and  who  was  to  promote  his  happiness  by  mak- 
ing him  the  object  of  her  affection  in  return. 
Ilis  love,  so  far  as  such  a  soul  is  capable  of  love, 
was  to  be  gratified  by  other  means.  He  had 
always  some  female  favorite,  chosen  from  among 
the  ladies  of  his  court,  high  in  rank,  though  not 
high  enough  to  be  the  wedded  wife  of  the  king. 
These  attachments  were  not  private  in  any 
sense,  nor  was  any  attempt  made  to  conceal 
them,  the  king  being  in  the  habit  of  bestowing 
upon  the  objects  of  them  all  the  public  atten- 
tions, as  well  as  the  private  intimacy  which  per- 
tain to  wedded  life.  The  king's  favorite  at  the 
present  time  was  Lady  Castlemaine.  She  was 
originally  a  Mrs.  Palmer,  but  the  king  had  made 
her  1;  isband  Lord  Castlemaine  for  the  purpose 
of  giving  a  title  to  the  wife.  Some  years  aft- 
erward he  made  her  a  duchess.  She  was  a 
prominent  lady  in  the  court,  being  every  where 
received  and  honored  as  the  temporary  wife  of 
the  king.     He  did  not  intend,  in  marrying  thf 


228  Kino  Charles  II.  [1661 

The  Spanish  goTemment  interferes.  Its  offer  to  Charle* 

Princess  Catharine,  to  disturb  this  state  of 
things  at  all.  She  was  to  be  in  name  his  wife, 
but  he  was  to  place  his  affections  where  he 
pleased.  She  was  to  have  her  own  palace,  her 
own  household,  and  her  own  pleasures,  and  he, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  to  continue  to  have  his. 
Notwithstanding  this,  however,  Charles  seem- 
ed to  have  had  some  consideration  for  the  per- 
sonsd  appearance  of  his  proposed  bride,  after  all. 
The  Spanish  government,  as  soon  as  Charles's 
plan  of  espousing  Catharine  became  known,  at- 
tempted to  prevent  the  match,  as  it  would  great- 
ly increase  the  strength  and  influence  of  Portu- 
gal by  giving  to  that  country  so  powerful  an 
ally.  Spain  had  plenty  of  money,  but  no  prin- 
cess in  the  royal  family ;  and  the  government 
therefore  proposed  to  Charles,  that  if  he  would 
be  content  to  take  some  Protestant  lady  for  a 
wife,  they  would  endow  her,  and  with  a  portion 
as  great  as  that  which  had  been  offered  with 
Catharine.  They,  moreover,  represented  to 
Charles  that  Catharine  was  out  of  health,  and 
very  plain  and  repulsive  in  her  personal  appear- 
ance, and  that,  besides,  it  would  be  a  great  deal 
better  for  him,  for  obvious  political  reasons,  to 
marry  a  Protestant  princess.  The  other  party 
replied  that  Catharine  was  not  ugly  by  anr 


1661.]  The   Marriage.  229 

Catharine'!  portrait  Tba  affal*  MMchidad 

means,  and  they  showed  Charles  her  portrait, 
which,  after  looking  at  it  a  few  minutes,  he 
said  was  not  unhandsome.  The^  reminded  him, 
also,  that  Catharine  was  only  the  third  in  suc- 
cession from  the  crown  of  Portugal,  so  that  the 
chance  of  her  actually  inheriting  that  realm 
was  not  at  all  to  be  disregarded.  Charles 
thought  this  a  very  important  consideration, 
and,  on  the  whole,  decided  that  the  affair  should 
go  on ;  and  commissioners  were  sent  to  make 
a  formal  proposal  of  marriage  at  the  Portuguese 
court.  Charles  wrote  letters  to  the  mother  of 
the  young  lady,  and  to  the  young  lady  herself, 
expressing  the  personal  interest  he  felt  in  ob- 
taining the  princess's  hand. 

The  negotiations  thus  commenced  went  on 
for  many  months,  with  no  other  obstruction  than 
the  complication  and  intricacy  which  attend  all 
matrimonial  arrangements  where  the  interests 
of  kingdoms,  as  well  as  the  personal  happiness 
of  the  wedded  pair,  are  involved  in  the  issue 
Embassadors  were  sent,  and  contracts  and  treat 
ies  were  drawn  up,  discussed,  modified,  and 
finally  signed.  A  formal  announcement  of  the 
proposed  marriage  was  made  to  the  English 
Parliament,  and  addresses  congratulatory  were 
Toted  and  presented  in  reply.     Arrangements 


230  Kino  Charles  II.  [1661 

fftul  amngementa.  CluriM'i  latter  to  CathcrtMi 

were  made  for  transferring  the  foreign  posses- 
sions promised  to  the  British  crown ;  and,  las1>- 
ly,  the  money  intended  for  the  dower  was  ool- 
Uoted,  tied  up  in  bags,  sealed,  and  deposited 
safely  in  the  strong  room  of  the  Castle  at  Lis- 
bon. In  fact,  every  thing  went  on  prosperous- 
ly to  the  end,  and  when  all  was  thus  finally 
settled,  Charles  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his 
expected  bride. 

"  London,  2d  of  July,  1661. 
"  My  Lady  and  Wife, 

"Alrefidy  the  embassador  has  set  off  for  Lis- 
bon ;  for  me  the  signing  of  the  marriage  has 
been  great  happiness  ;  and  there  is  about  to  be 
dispatched  at  this  time,  after  him,  one  of  my 
servants,  charged  with  what  would  appear  nec- 
essary, whereby  may  be  declared  on  my  part 
the  inexpressible  joy  of  this  felicitous  oonolo- 
sion,  which,  when  received,  will  hasten  the  com- 
ing  of  your  majesty. 

"I  am  going  to  make  a  short  progress  into 
some  of  my  provinces.  In  the  mean  time,  while 
I  am  going  further  from  my  most  sovereign 
good,  yet  I  do  not  complain  as  to  whither  I  go ; 
seeking  in  vain  tranquillity  in  my  restlessness, 
looking  to  see  the  beloved  person  of  your  maj- 
isty  in  these  realms  already  your  own  ;  and 


I661.J  The   MARRiAes.  231 

iddreM  of  the  letter.  Iti  hyfoetiay 

that  with  the  same  anxiety  with  which,  after 
my  long  banishment,  I  desired  to  see  myself 
within  them,  and  my  subjects  desiring  also  to 
behold  me  among  them.  The  presence  of  yoni 
Berenity  is  only  wanting  to  unite  us,  under  the 
protection  of  God,  in  the  health  and  content  I 
desire. 

"  The  very  faithful  husband  of  her  majesty, 
whose  hand  he  kisses.  Charles  Rex." 

The  letter  was  addressed 

"  To  the  Qc»H  or  Grkat  Britain,  my  wife  and  lady,  whom 
God  pre«erve." 

Whoever  reads  this  letter  attentively  will  see 
in  it  that  infallible  criterion  of  hypocrisy  and 
pretense  in  professions  of  regard,  viz.,  extrava- 
gant ideas  feebly  and  incoherently  expressed. 
When  the  heart  dictates  what  is  said,  the 
thoughts  are  natural,  and  the  language  plain ; 
but  in  composition  like  the  above,  we  see  a  con- 
tinual striving  to  say  something  for  effect,  which 
the  writer  invents  by  his  ingenuity  as  he  goea 
on,  without  any  honest  impulses  from  the  heart 
to  guide  him.  He  soars  one  minute  and  breaks 
down  the  next,  in  absurd  alternations  of  the  sub- 
lime and  the  ridiculous.  How  honest  Charles 
vms  in  such  professions,  and  what  was  tho  kino 


232  King  Charles  II.  [1661. 

Chariest  double  dealing.  Catfaarln*'*  titnatloa  and  ehanetar. 

of  connubial  happiness  whioh  he  was  preparing 
for  his  bride,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  waa 
even  now  spending  all  his  time  with  Lady  Ca»- 
tlemaine ;  and,  to  reconcile  her  to  his  marriage 
with  Catharine,  he  had  promised  her  that  he 
would  make  her  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  queen's 
bed-chamber  as  soon  as  she  arrived  in  London^ 
which  would  give  him  constant  opportunities  oi 
being  in  her  society. 

We  have  made  very  little  allusion  to  Cath 
arine  herself,  thus  far,  in  the  account  of  these 
transactions,  because  she  has  had,  thus  far,  noth- 
ing to  do  with  them.  Every  thing  has  been 
arranged  for  her  by  her  mother,  who  was  an 
ambitious  and  masculine  woman,  and  at  this 
time  the  queen  regent  of  Portugal.  Catharine 
had  been  kept  shut  up,  all  her  days,  in  the  most 
strict  seclusion,  and  in  the  most  rigorous  sub- 
jection to  her  mother's  will.  It  is  said  that  she 
had  hsurdly  been  ten  times  out  of  the  palace  in 
her  life,  since  her  return  to  it  from  the  convent 
where  she  had  been  educated.  The  innocent 
tnd  simple-hearted  maiden  looked  forward  to 
aer  marriage  as  to  a  release  from  a  tedious  and 
intolerable  bondage.  They  had  shown  her  King 
Charles's  picture,  and  had  given  her  an  account 
of  his  perilous  adventures  and  romantic  eitoapea, 


1662.]  The   Marriaub.  333 

Catliarine'*  fond  antlcipatioa*.  E«rl  of  Sandwich  sent  for  tfa«  brid« 

and  of  the  courage  and  energy  which  he  had 
sometimes  displayed.  And  that  was  all  she 
knew.  She  had  her  childlike  ideas  of  love  and 
of  oonjngal  fidelity  and  happiness,  and  believed 
that  she  was  going  to  realize  them.  As  she 
looked  forward,  therefore,  to  the  period  of  her 
departure  for  England,  she  longed  impatiently 
for  the  time  to  come,  her  heart  bounding  at  ev- 
ery thought  of  the  happy  hour  with  eager  an- 
ticipations of  delight. 

An  English  nobleman — ^the  Earl  of  Sand- 
wich — ^was  sent  with  a  squadron  to  bring  the 
bride  to  England.  He  was  received,  when  he 
entered  the  Tagus,  with  great  ceremony.  A 
Portuguese  minister  went  down  the  river  to 
meet  him  in  a  magnificent  barge.  The  noble- 
man descended  to  the  lowest  step  of  the  ladder 
which  led  down  the  side  of  the  ship,  to  receive 
the  minister.  They  ascended  the  ladder  togeth- 
er, while  the  ship  fired  a  salute  of  twenty  or 
thirty  guns.  They  went  into  the  cabin,  and 
took  seats  there,  with  great  ceremony.  The 
minister  then  rose  and  made  an  address  of  wel- 
come to  the  English  commander.  Lord  Sand- 
wich replied,  and  there  was  then  another  thun- 
dering salute  of  cannon. 

All  this  parade  and  ceremony  was,  in  thi* 


234  King    Charles   II.  [1662. 

The  money.  Catharine's  leave  of  her  mother. 

case,  as  it  often  is,  not  an  expression  of  real 
cordiality,  good- will,  and  good  faith,  but  a  sub- 
stitute for  them.  The  English  commander, 
who  had  been  specially  instructed  to  bring  over 
the  money  as  well  as  the  bride,  found,  to  his 
great  astonishment  and  perplexity,  that  the 
queen  regent  had  spent  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  money  which  had  been  put  away  so  safe- 
ly in  the  bags,  and  she  wished  to  pay  now  a 
part  of  the  dowry  in  merchandise,  at  such  pri- 
ces as  she  thought  reasonable,  atid  to  have  a 
year's  credit  for  the  remainder.  There  was  thus 
thrown  upon  Lord  Sandwich  the  very  heavy 
responsibility  of  deciding  whether  to  give  up  the 
object  of  his  expedition,  and  go  back  to  England 
without  the  bride,  or  to  take  her  without  the 
money.  After  very  anxious  hesitation  and  sus- 
pense, he  decided  to  proceed  with  his  enterprise, 
and  the  preparations  were  made  for  the  prin- 
cess's embarkation. 

When  the  day  arrived,  the  queen  descended 
the  grand  stair-case  of  the  palace,  and  at  the 
foot  of  it  took  leave  of  her  mother.  Neither 
mother  nor  daughter  shed  a  tear.  The  prin- 
cess was  conducted  through  the  streets,  accom- 
panied by  a  long  cavalcade  and  a  procession  of 
splendid  carriages,  through  long  lines  of  soldiers, 


i662.]  Thb  Marriaob.  237 

Parade  and  ceremony.  Tba  raUMrkatloik 

and  under  triumphal  arches,  and  over  paths 
strewed  with  flowers,  while  bands  of  musio,  and 
groups  of  dancers,  at  various  distances  along 
the  way,  expressed  the  general  congratulation 
and  joy.  When  they  reached  the  pier  there 
was  a  splendid  brigantine  or  barge  ready  to  re- 
ceive the  bride  and  her  attendants.  The  Earl 
of  Sandwich,  and  other  English  officers  of  high 
rank  belonging  to  the  squadron,  entered  the 
barge  too.  The  water  was  covered  with  boats, 
and  the  shipping  in  the  river  was  crowded  with 
spectators.  The  barge  moved  on  to  the  ship 
which  was  to  convey  the  bridal  party,  who  as- 
cended to  the  deck  by  means  of  a  spacious  and 
beautiful  stair  constructed  upon  its  side.  Sa 
lutes  were  fired  by  the  English  ships,  and  were 
echoed  by  the  Portuguese  forts  on  the  shore. 
The  princess's  brother  and  the  ladies  who  had 
accompanied  her  on  board,  to  take  leave  of  her 
there,  now  bade  her  farewell,  and  returned  by 
the  barge  to  the  shore,  while  the  ships  weighed 
anchor  and  prepared  to  put  to  sea. 

The  wind  was,  however,  contrary,  and  they 
were  compelled  to  remain  that  night  in  the  riv- 
er ',  and  as  soon  as  the  darkness  came  on,  the 
whole  shore  became  resplendent  with  illumina- 
tions at  the  windows  in  the  city,  and  with  rook- 


238  King  Charles  II.  {1662, 

Chrand  dljpUj  of  flre-worka.  Aniral  at  Portemontk. 

ets,  and  fire-balls,  and  fire- works  of  every  kind, 
rising  from  boats  upon  the  water,  and  from  the 
banks,  and  heights,  and  castle  battlements  all 
aroond  upon  the  land.  This  gay  and  splendid 
Bpeotacle  beguiled  the  night,  but  the  wind  con- 
tinued unfavorable  all  the  next  day,  and  con- 
fined the  squadron  still  t,o  the  river.  Catha- 
rine's mother  sent  out  a  messenger  during  the 
day  to  inquire  after  her  daughter's  health  and 
welfare.  The  etiquette  of  royalty  did  not  al- 
ow of  her  coming  to  see  her  child. 

The  fleet,  which  consisted  of  fourteen  men- 
of-war,  put  to  sea  on  the  second  day.  After  a 
long  and  stormy  passage,  the  squadron  arrived 
off  the  Isle  of  Wight ;  the  Duke  of  York  came 
oat  to  meet  it  there,  with  five  other  ships,  and 
they  all  entered  the  harbor  of  Portsmouth  to- 
gether. As  soon  as  Catharine  landed,  she  wrote 
immediately  to  Charles  to  notify  him  of  her  ar- 
rival. The  news  produced  universal  excite- 
ment in  London.  The  bells  were  rung,  bon- 
fires were  made  in  the  streets,  and  houses  were 
illuminated.  Every  body  seemed  full  of  joy 
and  pleasure  except  the  king  himself.  He 
seemed  to  care  little  about  it.  He  was  supping 
that  night  with  Lady  Castlemaine.  It  was  five 
days  before  he  net  out  to  meet  his  bride,  and  he 


1662.]  The    Marriage.  23)) 

Btrwigo  ooadmet  of  ClurlM.  IDa  interriew  wldi  CatK«ifa«. 

sopped  with  Lady  Castlemaine  the  night  before 
he  oommenced  his  journey. 

Some  of  Charles's  best  friends  were  very  mnoh 
grieved  at  his  pursuing  such  a  course ;  others 
were  very  indignant;  but  the  majority  of  the 
people  around  him  at  court  were  like  himself  in 
character  and  manners,  and  were  only  led  to 
more  open  irregularity  and  vice  themselves  by 
this  public  example  of  their  sovereign.  In  th«> 
mean  time,  the  king  moved  on  to  Portsmouth, 
escorted  by  a  body  of  his  Life  Guards.  He  found 
that  his  intended  bride  was  confined  to  her  bed 
with  a  sort  of  slow  fever.  It  was  the  result, 
they  said,  of  the  roughness  and  discomforts  of 
the  voyage,  though  we  may  certainly  imagine 
another  cause.  Charles  went  immediately  to 
the  house  where  she  weis  residing,  and  was  ad- 
mitted to  visit  her  in  her  chamber,  the  many 
attendants  who  were  present  at  the  interview 
watching  with  great  interest  every  word  and 
look  on  either  side  by  which  they  might  judge 
t{  the  natore  of  the  first  impression  made  by  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  upon  each  other.  Cath- 
arine was  not  considered  beautiful,  and  it  was 
natural  that  a  degree  of  curiosity  should  be 
manifested  to  learn  how  Charles  woad  regard 
kflr. 


240  Kino  Chahles  IL 

Portrait  of  Qneen  C'>idtaiii>«i 


[1662 


The  foUowing  representation  of  the  queen  in 
'Wjm  a  picture  painted  during  her  lifetime 


Cathakink  of  BkaoaitXa. 


There  are  two  apparently  contradictory  ae 
xmnts  of  the  impression  made  upon  Charles  hs 


166:^.]  The    Marriaob.  241 

Charlei'i  opinion  of  Catiiarlns.  Hie  marriago. 

this  his  first  sight  of  his  intended  hride.  Charles 
wrote  a  letter  to  Lord  Clarendon,  in  which  he 
expressed  himself  very  well  satisfied  with  her. 
He  admitted  that  she  was  no  beauty,  but  her 
countenance  was  agreeable,  he  said,  and  "  hei 
conversation,"  he  added,  "  as  far  as  I  can  per- 
ceive, is  very  good ;  for  she  has  wit  enough,  and 
a  very  agreeable  voice.  You  would  be  sur- 
prised to  see  how  well  we  are  acquainted  al- 
ready. In  a  word,  I  think  myself  very  happy, 
«,nd  I  am  confident  that  we  shall  agree  very 
well  together.  I  have  not  time  to  say  any  more 
My  lord  lieutenant  will  tell  you  the  rest."  A 
the  same  time,  while  writing  this  in  his  officia. 
communication  to  his  minister,  he  said  private- 
ly to  one  of  his  companions  on  leaving  the  pres- 
ence of  his  bride,  that,  "upon  his  word,  they  had 
sent  him  a  bat  instead  of  a  woman." 

The  royal  couple  were  married  the  next  day, 
first  very  privately  in  the  Catholic  form,  and 
afterward  more  openly,  in  a  great  hall,  and  be- 
(ore  a  large  assembly,  according  to  the  ritual 
of  the  Church  of  England.  The  bride  was  at- 
tired in  the  English  style,  her  dress  being  of 
rose  color,  trimmed  with  knots  of  blue  ribbon. 
These  knots  were,  after  the  ceremony,  detached 
Grom  the  dress,  and  distributed  among  the  conv 

23—16 


242  Kino  Charles  11.  [1662 

MurUge  praienU.  Journey  to  LondcNM 

pany  as  wedding  favors,  every  lady  eagerly 
pressing  forward  to  get  a  share.  Magnificent 
presents  were  made  to  the  groomsmen  and 
bridesmaids,  and  the  company  dispersed.  Thf 
queen,  still  indisposed,  went  back  to  her  bed 
and  her  supper  was  served  to  her  there,  the 
king  and  other  members  of  the  household  par 
taking  it  with  her,  seated  at  the  bedside. 

A  day  or  two  afterward  the  royal  party  pro- 
ceeded to  London,  in  a  long  train  composed  of 
Life  Guards,  carriages,  horsemen,  baggage  wag- 
ons, and  attendants  of  every  grade.  The  queen's 
heart  was  full  of  anticipations  of  happiness. 
The  others,  who  knew  what  state  of  things  she 
was  to  find  on  her  arrival  there,  looked  forward 
to  soenes  of  trouble  and  woe. 


1662.]     Character   and   Reigk.         243 

Hm  mm  of  Lady  CMtlemaiae.  Catharine'*  iplendld  qpaitmeBth 


Chapter    XI. 

Character    and   Rbi^ii 

OOME  of  the  traits  of  character  for  which 
'^  King  Charles  II.  has  been  most  noted  among 
mankind  are  well  illustrated  by  his  manage- 
ment of  the  affair  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  when 
the  queen  arrived  at  her  new  home  in  Hamp- 
ton Court.  Hampton  Court  is  a  very  spacious 
and  beautiful  palace  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames, 
some  miles  above  London,  splendidly  built,  and 
very  pleasantly  situated  at  a  graceful  bend  of 
the  river.  It  was  magnificently  fitted  up  and 
furnished  for  Catharine's  reception.  Her  suite 
of  apartments  were  supplied  and  adorned  in  the 
most  sumptuous  manner.  Her  bed,  which  was 
a  present  to  Charles,  at  the  time  of  his  restora- 
tion, from  the  States  of  Holland,  was  said  to 
have  cost,  with  all  the  appurtenances,  a  sum 
equal  to  between  thirty  and  forty  thousand  dol- 
lars. The  hangings  were  an  embroidery  of 
silver  on  crimson  velvet.  The  other  articles  of 
fdrniture  in  the  apartment,  the  ivirrors,  the 
richly  inlaid  cabinets,  the  toilet  service  of  mass- 


244  King  Charles  II.  [1662 

Ladf  Catdemalne'i  son.  Tlie  doable  baptim. 

Ive  gold,  the  canopies,  the  carved  chairs,  the 
cnrtains,  the  tapestries,  and  the  paintings,  cor- 
responded in  magnificence  with  the  bed,  so  that 
Catharine,  when  she  was  introduced  to  the 
scene,  felt  that  she  had  attained  to  the  very 
summit  of  human  grandeur. 

For  a  few  weeks  Catharine  neither  saw  noi 
heard  any  thing  of  Lady  Castlemaine.  She 
was  confined  to  her  house  at  the  time  by  the 
care  of  an  infant,  born  a  few  days  after  the  ar- 
rival of  the  queen.  Her  husband  had  the  child 
baptized  soon  after  its  birth  as  his  son  and  heir ; 
but  the  mother  soon  afterward  had  it  baptized 
again  as  the  son  of  the  king,  Charles  himself 
standing  sponsor  on  the  occasion.  A  violent 
quarrel  followed  between  Lady  Cjistlemaine  and 
her  husband.  She  left  the  house,  takiMg  with 
her  all  her  servants  and  attendants,  and  all  the 
plate  and  other  valuables  which  she  could  carry 
away.  The  husband,  overwhelmed  with  wretch- 
edness and  shame,  abandoned  every  thing,  and 
went  to  France,  in  voluntary  exile.  His  wife 
then  came  and  took  up  her  residence  at  Rioh- 
GQond,  which  is  not  far  from  Hampton  Court, 
80  as  to  be  near  the  king.  In  all  these  proceed- 
ings the  king  himself  gave  her  his  continued 
ooantduance,  enoouragement,  and  aid. 


1662.]      Character   and    Reiow.  245 


Lady  Caatiemaiaa  BUiMd  tx  the  hoiuehold.       Catharine's  ladbgnadoa. 

Although  Catharine,  in  the  confiding  sim- 
plicity of  her  character,  had  fully  believed,  in 
ooming  to  London,  that  Charles  would  be  to 
her  a  true  and  faithful  husband,  still  she  had 
heard  the  name  of  Lady  Castlemaine  before  she 
left  Lisbon.  Her  mother  had  once  briefly  al- 
luded to  the  subject,  and  gave  her  a  warning, 
charging  her  to  remember  the  name,  and  to  be 
on  her  guard  against  the  lady  herself,  and  never 
to  tolerate  her  in  her  presence  on  any  pretext 
Things  were  in  this  state,  when,  one  day,  after 
Catharine  had  been  about  six  weeks  in  her  new 
home,  Charles  brought  in  a  list  of  ladies  whom 
he  proposed  that  she  should  make  the  ladies  of 
her  household.  Catharine  took  the  list,  and 
there,  to  her  surprise  and  indignation,  she  saw 
the  dreaded  name  of  Lady  Castlemaine  at  the 
head  of  it. 

Very  much  agitated,  she  began  to  prick  out 
the  name,  and  to  declare  that  she  could  not 
listen  to  any  such  proposition.  Charles  was 
angry,  and  remonstrated.  She  persisted,  and 
said  that  he  must  either  yield  to  her  in  that 
point,  or  send  her  back  to  Lisbon.  Cheirles  was 
determined  to  have  his  way,  and  Catharine  was 
overwhelmed  with  anguish  and  grief.  This  last- 
ed two  daySf  when  Charles  made  his  peace  with 


246  Kino  Charles  II.  [1663 

CharlM  appean  to  yield  the  politt  Hli  dnpUd^i 

his  wife  by  solemnly  promising  to  give  up  Lady 
Castlemaine,  and  to  have  from  that  time  for- 
ward nothing  more  to  do  with  her. 

Kong  Charles  11.  has  always  been  famed  fot 
his  good  nature.  This  was  a  specimen  of  it 
He  never  liked  to  quarrel  with  any  body,  and 
was  always  ready  to  give  up  his  point,  in  ap- 
pearance and  form  at  least,  for  the  sake  of  peace 
and  good  humor.  Accordingly,  when  he  found 
now  immovably  averse  his  wife  was  to  having 
Lady  Castlemaine  for  an  inmate  of  her  family, 
instead  of  declaring  that  she  must  and  should 
submit  to  his  will,  he  gave  up  himself,  and  said 
that  he  would  think  no  more  about  it,  without, 
however,  having  the  remotest  idea  of  keeping 
his  word.  He  was  only  intending,  since  he 
found  the  resistance  so  decided  on  this  side  of 
the  citadel,  to  try  to  find  some  other  approach. 

Accordingly,  a  short  time  after  this,  one  even- 
ing when  the  queen  was  holding  a  sort  of  levee 
in  a  brilliant  saloon,  surrounded  by  her  Portu- 
guese ladies,  and  receiving  English  ladies,  as 
they  were  one  after  another  presented  to  her 
by  the  king,  the  company  were  astonished  at 
seeing  Lady  Castlemaine  appear  with  the  rest, 
and,  as  she  advanced,  the  king  presented  her  to 
thr  queen.     To  the  surprise  of  every  one,  Cath- 


1662.]     Character   and   Rbiqm.         247 

Oadurine'i  rafferingi.  Violent  qvairaL 

arine  received  her  as  graciously  as  the  rest,  and 
gave  her  her  hand.  The  fact  was,  that  Catha- 
rine, not  being  familiar  with  the  sound  and  pro- 
nunciation of  English  words,  had  not  understood 
the  name.  One  of  the  Portuguese  ladies  who 
stood  near  her  whispered  to  inquire  if  she  knew 
that  that  was  Lady  Castlemaine.  Catharine 
was  stunned  and  staggered  by  the  words  as  by 
a  blow.  The  blood  gushed  from  her  nose,  she 
fell  over  into  the  arms  of  her  attendants  in  a 
fainting  fit,  and  was  borne  out  of  the  room. 

There  followed,  after  this  scene,  a  long  and 
dreadful  quarrel.  Charles  accused  his  vnfe  of 
unreasonable  and  foolish  jealousy,  and  of  put- 
ting a  public  insult  upon  one  of  the  ladies  of 
his  court,  whom  she  was  bound  to  treat  with 
civility  and  respect,  since  he  chose  to  have  it  so 
She,  on  the  other  hand,  declared  that  he  was 
cruel  and  tjrrannical  in  making  such  demands 
upon  her,  and  that  she  would  go  back  to  Por- 
tugal rather  than  submit  to  such  an  intolerable 
indignity.  She  criminated  Charles,  and  Charles 
recriminated  and  threatened  her,  and  for  one 
night  the  palace  was  filled  with  the  noise  and 
uproar  of  the  quarrel.  The  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  household  were  very  glad,  they  said, 
^hat  they  were  not  in  London,  where  there 


248  Kino  Charles  II.  11663 

Remomtranew  of  CbarlM'i  counaelon.  He  illeiicM  all  opp<Ndtla& 

would  have  been  so  many  more  witnesses  of 
the  scene. 

Some  of  Charles's  counselors  and  ministers  of 
state  were  disposed  at  first  to  remonstrate  with 
him  for  laying  commands  on  his  wife,  with 
which,  as  they  expressed  it,  flesh  and  blood 
could  not  comply.  He,  however,  peremptorily 
silenced  all  their  expostulations,  and  required 
them,  as  they  valued  his  favor,  to  aid  him  in 
effecting  his  purposes.  Good-natured  eis  he 
was,  his  determination  was  fully  aroused,  and 
he  was  now  resolved  to  compel  the  queen  to 
submit.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  Lord  Clarendon, 
in  which  he  declared  his  absolute  and  unalter- 
able determination  tx)  make  Lady  Castlemaine 

'  of  the  queen's  bed-chamber,"  and  hoped  he 
might  be  miserable  in  this  world  and  in  the 
world  to  come  if  he  failed  in  the  least  degree 
in  what  he  had  undertaken ;  and  if  any  one  of 
his  friends  attempted  to  thwart  or  impede  hira 
in  it  in  any  way,  he  would  make  him  repent  of 
it  as  long  as  he  lived.     The  king  concluded  bis 

etter  with  asking  Clarendon  to  show  it  to  some 
others  concerned,  that  they  might  all  under- 
stand distinctly  what  they  were  to  expect. 

Of  coarse,  every  body,  after  this,  txjok  sides 
against  the  queen,  and  all  who  had  access  to 


1662.]      Character   and   Reign.         249 

Lady  Castlemaine'*  character.  Bar  InflBeBM 

her  urged  her  to  comply  with  the  wishes  of  the 
king.  She  begged  and  prayed  to  be  spared  such 
an  indignity.  She  remonstrated,  sometimoi 
with  impetuous  passion,  and  sometimes  with 
silent  grief  and  bitter  tears.  She  wanted  to  go 
back  again  to  Portugal;  but  this,  of  course, 
could  not  be.  The  end  of  it  was,  that  she  was 
worn  out  at  last.  Lady  Castlemaine  was  ad- 
mitted, and  remained  an  inmate  of  her  family 
as  long  as  she  retained  her  place  in  the  king's 
regard. 

Lady  Castlemaine  was  a  proud  and  imperi- 
ous beauty,  who  abused  the  power  which  she 
soon  found  that  she  possessed  over  the  king,  in 
a  manner  to  make  her  an  object  of  hatred  to 
every  one  else.  She  interfered  with  every  thing, 
and  had  a  vast  influence  even  over  the  affairs 
of  state.  The  king  was  sometimes  out  of  pa- 
tience, and  attempted  resistance,  but  she  soon 
reduced  him  to  submission.  There  was  once 
some  question  about  sending  a  certain  noble- 
man, who  was  charged  with  some  political  of- 
fenses, to  the  Tower.  She  declared  that  he 
should  not  be  sent  there.  The  king  rebuked 
her  interference,  and  they  got  into  a  high  dis- 
pute on  the  subject,  the  king  telling  her,  in  the 
end,  **that  she  was  an  impertiiient  jade,  that 


250  King  Charles  IL  [1662 

violent  quarrela.  The  king's  ft-anknoM 

meddled  with  things  she  had  nothing  to  do  with." 
To  which  she  replied  "  that  he  was  a  great  fool, 
that  let  fools  have  the  management  of  his  affairs, 
and  sent  his  faithful  servants  to  prison."  In 
the  end,  the  lady  gained  the  victory,  and  the  no- 
bleman went  free.  Violent  quarrels  of  this  kind 
were  very  frequent  between  these  high-life  lov- 
ers, and  they  always  ended  in  the  triumph  of 
Lady  Castlemaine.  She  used  to  threaten,  as  a 
last  resort,  that  if  the  king  came  to  an  open 
rupture  with  her,  she  would  print  the  letters 
that  he  had  written  to  her,  and  this  always 
brought  him  to  terms. 

These  incidents  indicate  a  very  extraordina- 
ry freedom  and  familiarity  of  manners  on  the 
part  of  Charles,  and  he  probably  appears,  in  all 
these  transactions,  to  much  greater  disadvant- 
age in  some  respects  than  he  otherwise  would 
have  done,  on  account  of  the  extreme  opermess 
and  frankness  of  his  character.  He  lived,  in 
fact,  on  the  most  free  and  familiar  terms  with 
all  around  him,  jesting  continually  with  every 
body,  and  taking  jests,  with  perfect  good  nature, 
from  others  in  return.  In  fact,  his  jests,  gibes, 
and  frolics  kept  the  whole  court  continually  in 
a  condition  of  frivolous  gayety  and  fun,  which 
would  have  excited  the  astonishment  of  all  th*» 


1662.]     Character   and  Reigih.  251 

Eing  ChariM'a  ipanleU.  The  king's  frlrolttx 

serious  portion  of  mankind,  if  the  extreme  and 
universal  dissipation  and  vice  which  prevailed 
had  not  awakened  a  far  deeper  emotion. 

In  fact,  there  seemed  to  be  no  serious  ele- 
ment whatever  in  the  monarch's  character. 
He  was,  for  instance,  very  fond  of  dogs,  and 
cultivated  a  particular  breed,  since  called  King 
Charles's  spaniels,  which  he  kept  at  one  time 
in  great  numbers,  and  in  all  stages  of  age  and 
condition,  in  his  palace,  and  in  his  very  bed- 
chamber, making  all  the  apartments  around 
very  disagreeable  by  the  effluvia.  Rewarda 
were  constantly  offered  for  certain  of  the  king's 
dogs  which  had  escaped.  They  were  always 
escaping.  He  was  attended  by  these  dogs 
wherever  he  went,  and  at  his  meetings  with  his 
council,  while  the  gravest  and  most  momentous 
national  interests  were  under  discussion,  he 
would  amuse  himself  by  playing  with  them  un- 
der the  table.  He  read  his  speeches  at  Parlia- 
ment, that  is,  the  brief  messages  with  which 
the  sovereign  usually  opens  the  session,  in  a  ri- 
diculous manner,  and  at  church,  instead  of  at* 
tending  to  the  service,  he  would  play  at  peep 
with  Lady  Castlemaine  between  the  curtains 
which  separated  his  box  from  that  of  the  ladies 
of  the  household.     And  yet  he  pretended  to  be 


202  Kino  Chari^bs  IL  [1662. 

Cbuimfa  opinion  of  atfaeUm.  H]a  •oeupatio^ 

a  firm  believer  in  Chriatianity ;  and  while  he 
had  no  objection  to  any  extreme  of  vice,  he  dis- 
countenanced infidelity.  On  one  occasion,  whea 
a  philosophical  skeptic  had  been  enlarging  for 
some  time  on  his  objections  to  the  Christian 
faith,  Charles  replied  by  saying,  "My  lord,  I 
am  a  great  deal  older  than  your  grace,  and  have 
heard  more  arguments  in  favor  of  atheism  than 
you,  but  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  see  that 
there  is  nothing  in  them,  and  I  hope  your  grace 
wiU." 

Charles  spent  most  of  his  time,  at  some  pe- 
riods of  his  reign,  in  idle  amusements,  lounging 
about  his  palace,  playing  at  tennis  in  the  ten- 
nis court  like  a  boy,  and  then  weighing  him- 
self afterward  to  see  how  much  he  was  gaining 
In  the  afternoons  and  evenings  he  would  loiter 
in  the  rooms  of  his  favorites  while  they  were 
finishing  their  dressing,  gamble  at  cards,  and 
often  would  get  very  much  intoxicated  at  wild 
midnight  carousals.  He  would  ramble  in  the 
mall  and  in  the  parks,  and  feed  the  aquatio 
birds  upon  the  p^nds  there,  day  after  day,  with 
all  the  interest  and  pleasure  of  a  truant  school- 
boy. He  roamed  about  thus  in  the  most  free 
and  careless  manner,  and  accosted  people  far 
beneath  him  in  rank  in  what  was  considered  a 
TCTV  undismified  wav  for  a  kinc 


1662.]     Character   and   Reign.         953 


fanint'i  ramonstrancea. 


His  brother  James,  the  Dnke  of  York,  some- 
'  times  remonstrated  with  him  on  this  subject. 
James  was,  of  course,  so  long  as  the  queen, 
Charles's  lawful  wife,  had  no  children,  the  next 
heir  to  the  crown.  He  spent  most  of  hi«  Life  in 
the  court  of  his  brother,  and  they  were  gener- 
ally very  warm  friends  to  each  other.  On  one 
of  Charles's  frolicking  excursions,  when  he  was 
away  far  from  his  palace,  without  any  suitable 
attendants  or  guards,  James  told  him  that  he 
really  thought  his  life  was  not  safe  in  such  ex- 
Dosures.  Charles  replied  by  telling  James  not 
to  give  himself  any  uneasiness.  "  You  may  de- 
pend upon  it,"  said  he,  "  that  nobody  will  ever 
think  of  killing  me  to  make  you  king." 

The  king  was  not  unwilling,  too,  to  take,  him- 
self, such  jests  as  he  gave.  One  day,  in  con- 
versation with  a  dissolute  member  of  the  court, 
after  they  had  been  joking  each  other  for  some 
time,  he  said,  "  Ah !  Shaftesbury,  I  verily  be- 
lieve you  are  the  wickedest  dog  in  my  domin- 
ions." "  Yes,"  replied  Shaftesbury,  "  for  a  sub' 
jectf  I  think  I  am." 

There  was  a  mischievous  and  nnmanagoa 
ble  goat  in  one  of  the  palace  court-yards,  whoM 
name  was  Old  Rowley,  and  the  oonrtiers  oon* 
■idered  the  boast  as  affcnrding  so  just  an  emblem 


254  Kins  Charles  II.  [1662 

Old  Rowlej.  Th«  apttmth. 

of  the  character  of  the  king,  that  they  gave  the 
king  his  name.  Charles,  instead  of  resenting 
it,  entered  into  the  jest ;  and  one  day,  as  he  wai 
going  into  the  apartment  of  some  of  the  ladies, 
he  heard  them  singing  a  song,  in  which  he  fig- 
nred  ridiculously  as  the  goat.  He  knocked  at 
the  door.  They  asked  who  was  there.  "  Only 
Old  Rowley,"  said  the  king. 

The  king's  repartees  were  some  of  them  real- 
y  good,  and  he  obtained  in  his  day  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  quite  a  wit,  while  yet  all  his  ac- 
tions, and  the  whole  of  his  management  of  his 
affairs,  were  so  utterly  unwise  and  so  wholly 
unworthy  of  his  station,  that  every  one  was 
struck  with  the  contrast.  One  of  the  wits  of 
his  court  one  day  wrote  an  epitaph  for  him, 
over  his  door,  as  follows : 

'  Here  lies  oar  sovereign  lord  the  king, 
Whose  word  no  man  relies  on. 
Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing, 
And  never  did  a  wise  one." 

When  the  king  came  and  saw  this  insorip^ 
tion,  he  stopped  to  read  it,  and  said,  "  Yes,  that 
is  verj  true ;  and  the  reason  is,  my  doings  are 
those  of  my  ministers,  while  my  sayings  are 
my  own." 

Charles  had,  in  fact,  very  little  to  do  witM 


1662.]      Character   and    Reion.         255 

Charlea's  building  plana.  Sir  Cbriitopher  Wraa 

the  public  affairs  of  his  kingdom.  He  liked  to 
build  palaces  and  ships,  and  he  expended  vast 
sums,  not  very  judiciously,  on  these  plans.  Sii 
Christopher  Wren,  the  famous  architect,  p.an- 
ned  one  of  these  palaces,  and  Charles,  when  he 
went  to  see  it,  complained  that  the  rooms  were 
too  small.  Sir  Christopher  walked  about  with  a 
self-important  air,  looking  up  at  the  ceiling,  and 
said  that  he  thought  they  were  high  enough. 
Sir  Christopher  was  very  small  in  stature. 
Charles  accordingly  squatted  down  as  well  as 
he  could,  to  get  his  head  in  as  low  a  position 
as  the  architect's,  and  walked  about  the  room 
in  that  ridiculous  attitude,  looking  up  in  mim- 
icry of  Sir  Christopher's  manner,  and  then  said, 
"  Oh,  yes,  now  I  think  they  are  high  enough." 
These  building  plans,  and  other  similajr  un- 
dertakings, together  with  the  vast  amounts 
which  the  king  lavished  upon  his  numerous  fe- 
male favorites,  exhausted  his  resources,  tmd  kept 
him  in  continual  straits  for  money.  He  was  al- 
ways urging  Parliament  to  make  new  grants, 
and  to  lay  more  taxes,  until,  as  he  said  himself, 
he  was  ashamed  to  look  his  Parliament  in  the 
face,  he  was  so  continually  begging  them  for 
guppliea.  The  people  caricatured  him  by  the  rep- 
resentation of  a  poverty-stricken  man,  with  his 


256  Kino  Charlbs  II.  [1662 

CarieatarMoftfaeklng.  The  tfalef  in  the  palace 

pockets  turned  inside  out,  and  begging  money 
A.t  another  time  the  caricature  took  the  form 
rf  a  man  led  along  against  his  will  by  two  wom- 
en, and  threatened  by  a  third,  wearing  all  the 
time  a  countenance  expressive  of  helplessness 
and  distress. 

The  king  bore  all  these  things  with  the  ut- 
most good  nature,  satisfied,  apparently,  if  he 
eould  only  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  dissipation  and 
vice,  and  continue,  in  his  palaces,  a  perpetual 
round  of  reckless  merriment  and  fun.  Some 
of  the  stories  which  are  gravely  told  by  the  his- 
torians of  the  day  are  scarcely  credible.  For 
instance,  it  is  said  that  a  thief  one  day  found 
His  way,  in  the  guise  of  a  gentleman,  into  one 
of  the  royal  drawing-rooms,  and  contrived  to 
get  a  gold  snuff-box  out  of  the  pocket  of  one  o. 
the  noblemen  there.  Just  as  he  had  success- 
fully accomplished  his  object,  unobserved,  as  he 
supposed,  he  looked  up,  and  saw  the  king's  eyes 
fastened  upon  him.  Kjiowing  his  majesty's 
character,  the  thief  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
give  him  a  wink,  with  a  sly  gesture  enjoining 
secrecy.  The  king  nodded  assent,  and  the  thief 
went  away  with  his  prize.  When  the  noble- 
man missed  his  snuff-box,  the  king  amused  him^ 
self  some  time  with  his  perplexity  and  surprise, 


1662.]      Character  and   Reiom.  2lf) 

Charlet't  goremment  The  three  great  eslamitleft 

and  then  told  him  that  it  was  of  no  use  lor  him 
to  search  for  his  snuff-box,  for  a  thief  had  gone 
off  with  it  half  an  hour  ago.  "  I  saw  him/ 
said  the  king,  with  a  countenance  full  of  fun, 
•'  but  I  could  not  do  any  thing.  The  rascal 
made  me  his  confidant,  and,  of  course,  you  know, 
I  could  not  betray  him." 

Under  the  government  of  such  a  sovereign, 
it  could  not  be  expected  that  the  public  affairs 
of  the  realm  would  have  gone  on  very  prosper- 
ously. Still,  however,  they  might  have  been 
conducted  with  ordinary  success  by  his  minis- 
ters, and  perhaps  they  were,  in  fact,  managed 
as  well  as  was  usual  with  the  governments  of 
Europe  in  those  days.  It  happened,  however, 
that  three  great  public  calamities  occurred,  all 
of  a  most  marked  and  signal  character,  which 
were,  perhaps,  not  owing  at  all  to  causes  for 
which  Charles  was  responsible,  but  which  have 
nevertheless  connected  such  associations  in 
men's  minds  with  this  unfortunate  reign,  as 
that  Englishmen  have  since  looked  back  upon 
it  with  very  little  pleasure.  These  three  ca- 
lamities were  the  plague,  the  fire,  and  the 
Dutch  invasion. 

There  have  been  a  great  many  seasons  of 
plague  in  London,  all  inconceivably  dreadful; 
23—17 


258  King  Charles  II.  [1662 


Condition  of  London.  Filtk  and  wretehednun 

but  as  King  Charles's  fire  was  first  among  con- 
flagrations, so  his  plague  was  the  greatest  pes- 
tilence that  ever  ravaged  the  city.  London 
was,  in  those  days,  in  a  condition  which  ex- 
actly adapted  it  to  be  the  easy  prey  of  pestilence, 
famine,  and  fire.  The  people  were  crowded  to- 
gether in  vast  masses,  with  no  comforts,  no 
cleanliness,  no  proper  organization.  The  enor- 
mous vegetable  and  animal  accumulations  of 
such  a  multitude,  living  more  like  brutes  than 
men,  produced  a  continual  miasma,  which  pre- 
pared the  constitutions  of  thousands  for  any  in- 
fection which  might  chance  to  light  among  them 
Pestilence  is,  in  fact,  the  rude  and  dreadful  rem- 
edy which  nature  provides  for  the  human  mis- 
ery which  man  himself  can  not  or  vvdll  not  cure. 
When  the  dictates  of  reason  and  conscience  are 
neglected  or  disobeyed,  and  the  ills  which  they 
might  have  averted  sink  the  social  state  into  a 
condition  of  degradation  and  wretchedness  so 
great  that  the  denser  accumulations  of  the  peo- 
ple become  vast  and  corrupted  swarms  of  verm- 
in instead  of  organized  communities  of  men,  then 
plague  and  fever  come  in  as  the  last  resort — half 
remedy,  half  retribution—devised  by  that  mys- 
terious principle  which  struggles  perpetually  foi 
the  preservation  of  the  human  race,  to  thin  ofl 


1665.]     Character    and   Reion.         259 

Xto  great  plagne-  Scene*  of  bomt 

the  excessive  accumulation  by  destroying  a  por- 
tion of  the  surplus  in  so  frightful  a  way  as  to 
drive  away  the  rest  in  terror. 

The  great  plague  of  London  took  place  in 
1665,  one  year  before  the  fire.  The  awful 
scenes  which  the  whole  city  presented,  no  pen 
can  describe.  A  hundred  thousand  persons  are 
said  to  have  died.  The  houses  where  cases  of 
the  plague  existed  were  marked  with  a  red 
cross  and  shut  up,  the  imnates  being  all  fasten- 
ed in,  to  live  or  die,  at  the  mercy  of  the  infec- 
tion. Every  day  carts  rolled  through  the  oth- 
erwise silent  and  desolate  streets,  men  accom- 
panying them  to  gather  up  with  pitchforks  the 
dead  bodies  which  had  been  dragged  out  from 
the  dwellings,  and  crying  "  Bring  out  your 
dead"  as  they  went  along.*     Thousands  went 

*  Sometimes  the  living  were  pitched  into  the  cart  by  roam- 
Iftke  instead  of  the  dead.  There  is  a  piece  of  sculpture  ii 
the  Tottenham  Oourt-road  in  London  intended  to  commemo- 
rate the  following  case.  A  Scotch  piper,  who  had  been  wan 
dering  in  homeless  misery  about  the  streets,  with  nothing  bat 
his  bagpipes  and  his  dog,  got  intoxicated  at  last,  as  sach  mea 
always  do,  if  they  can,  in  times  of  such  extreme  and  awfol 
danger,  and  laid  down  upon  the  steps  of  a  public  building  ani 
went  to  sleep.  The  cart  came  along  in  the  night,  by  torolk 
light,  and  one  of  the  men  who  attended  it,  iaserting  the  poiiil 
of  his  fork  under  the  poor  vagabond's  belt,  tossed  him  into 
th«  cart,  bagpipes  and  all.  The  dog  did  all  he  oould  to  d** 
i«Kl  his  master,  bat  in  vain-     The  cart  went  thandwuiK  «Ai 


260  Kino  Charles  II.  [1665 

Dreadful  affeoU  of  the  plagn«.  Mode  of  buying 

mad  with  their  uncontrollable  terror,  and  roam- 
ed about  the  streets  in  raving  delirium,  killing 
themselves,  and  mothers  killing  their  children, 
in  an  insane  and  phrensied  idea  of  escaping  by 
that  means,  somehow  or  other,  from  the  dread- 
ful destroyer. 

Every  body  whose  reason  remained  to  them 
avoided  all  possible  contact  or  communication 
with  others.  Even  in  the  country,  in  the  ex- 
change of  commodities,  a  thousand  contrivan- 
ces were  resorted  to  to  avoid  all  personal  con- 
nection. In  one  place  there  was  a  stone,  where 
those  who  had  any  thing  to  sell  placed  their 
goods  and  then  retreated,  while  he  who  wished 
to  buy  came  up,  and,  depositing  his  money  on 
the  stone  in  the  place  of  the  merchandise,  took 
what  he  had  thus  bought  away. 

the  men  walking  along  by  its  side,  examining  the  ways  fift 
new  additions  to  their  load.  The  piper,  half  awakened  by 
the  shock  of  his  precipitation  into  the  cart,  and  aronsed  itill 
more  by  the  jolting*  of  the  road,  sat  up,  attempted  in  rain  to 
nlly  his  bewildered  faculties,  looked  about  him,  wondering 
where  he  was,  and  then  instinctively  began  to  play.  The 
men,  astonished  and  terrified  at  such  soands  from  a  cart  load- 
ed with  the  dead,  filed  in  all  directions,  leaving  the  cart  ia 
the  middle  of  the  street  alone. 

What  a  mysterious  and  inconsistent  principle  is  fear.  Hera 
are  men  braving,  onconcemed  and  at  their  ease,  the  most  ab- 
•olntely  appalling  of  all  possible  human  dangers,  and  yet  te» 
rifled  ool  of  their  senses  at  an  nnexpected  nwiinil 


T:m^.^     i^^'JcryJ ,.  iN.? 


1666.]      Character    and    Reign.         263 

Tfaa  great  flra.  Terrific  •cene- 

The  great  fire  took  place  in  1666,  about  a 
year  after  the  plague,  and  burned  a  very  large 
part  of  London.  It  commenced  accidentally  in 
a  baker's  shop,  where  a  great  store  of  fagots  had 
been  collected,  and  spread  so  rapidly  among  the 
buildings  which  surrounded  the  spot  that  it  was 
Boon  entirely  beyond  control.  The  city  of  Lon- 
don was  then  composed  of  an  immense  mass  of 
mean  buildings,  crowded  densely  together,  with 
▼ery  narrow  streets  intervening,  and  the  wind 
carried  the  flames,  with  inconceivable  rapidity, 
far  and  wide.  The  people  seemed  struck  uni- 
versally with  a  sense  of  terror  and  despair^  and 
nothing  was  to  be  heard  but  shrieks,  outcries, 
and  wild  lamentations.  The  sky  was  one  vast 
lurid  canopy,  like  molten  brass,  day  and  night, 
for  four  days,  while  the  whole  city  presented  a 
scene  of  indescribable  and  awful  din ;  the  crack- 
ing and  thundering  of  the  flames,  the  phren- 
sied  screams  of  the  women  and  children,  the 
terrific  falling  of  spires,  towers,  wsdls,  and  lofty 
battlements,  the  frightful  explosions  of  the  hous- 
es, blown  up  by  gunpowder  in  the  vain  hope 
of  stopping  the  progress  of  the  flames,  aU  form- 
ed a  scene  of  grandeur  so  terrific  and  dreadful, 
that  they  who  witnessed  the  spectacle  were 
haunted  bv  the  recollection  of  it  long  afterward. 


264  Kino  Charles  II.  [1667. 

Tha  moBmmeat  The  Dutch  liiTMdoA 

as  by  a  frightfhl  dream.  A  tall  monument 
was  built  upon  the  spot  where  the  baker's  shoy 
stood,  to  commemcrate  the  calamity.  The  fire 
held,  in  fact,  in  the  estimation  of  mankind,  the 
rank  of  the  greatest  and  most  terrible  of  all  oon« 
flagrations,  until  the  burning  of  Moscow,  in  the 
time  of  Napoleon,  in  some  degree  eclipsed  its 
fame. 

The  Dutch  invasion  was  the  third  great  oa 
iamity  which  signalized  King  Charles's  unfor- 
tunate reign.  The  ships  of  the  enemy  came  up 
the  Thames  and  the  Medway,  which  is  a  branch 
of  the  Thames ;  they  took  possession  of  a  fort 
at  Sheerness,  near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and, 
after  seizing  all  the  military  stores,  which  had 
been  collected  there  to  an  enormous  amount, 
they  set  fire  to  the  powder  magazine,  and  blew 
up  the  whole  fortress  with  a  terrific  explosion. 
The  way  was  now  open  to  them  to  London,  un- 
less the  English  could  contrive  some  way  to  ar- 
rest  their  progress.  They  attempted  to  do  this 
by  sinking  some  ships  in  the  river,  and  drawing 
a  strong  chain  across  from  one  sunken  vessel 
to  the  other,  and  fastening  the  ends  to  the  shores. 
The  Dutch,  however;  broke  through  this  ob- 
ftmotion.  They  seized  an  opportunity  when  the 
Hde  was  setting  strongly  up  the  river,  ami  m 


Ths  Monument. 


1667.J     Character  and  Reion.  267 

The  Kojal  Otk.  Attempt*  to  itop  the  DateK. 

fresh  wind  was  blowing ;  their  ships,  impelled 
thus  by  a  double  force,  broke  through  the  chains, 
passed  safely  between  the  sunken  ships,  and 
came  on  in  triumph  up  the  river,  throwing  the 
city  of  London  into  universal  consternation. 
There  were  several  English  ships  of  war,  and 
several  Dutch  ships,  which  had  been  captured 
and  brought  up  the  Thames  as  prizes,  lying  in 
the  river ;  these  vessels  were  all  seized  by  the 
Dutch,  and  burned ;  one  of  the  English  ships 
which  they  thus  destroyed  was  uuiied  the  Royal 
Oak  * 

Of  course,  there  was  now  a  universal  scene 
of  confusion  and  terror  in  London.  Every  body 
laid  the  blame  of  the  calamity  upon  the  king  ; 
the  money  which  he  had  received  for  building 
ships,  <ind  other  national  defenses,  he  had  squan- 
dered, they  said,  upon  his  guilty  pleasures ; 
then  the  war,  which  had  resulted  in  this  inva- 
sion, was  caused  by  the  political  mismanage- 
ment of  his  leign.  While  the  people,  however, 
thus  loudly  condemned  the  conduct  of  their  mon- 
arch, they  went  energetically  at  work  to  arrest 
the  progress  of  their  invaders ;  they  sunk  other 
«hip»  in  greater  numbers,  and  built  platforms, 
OD  which  they  raised  batteries  of  cannon.     At 

•  See  Frontispiece. 


268  King  Charles  IL  [1678. 

Oatet'a  PopUh  Plot  Tha  king  •  phUofophi 

length  the  further  progress  of  the  enemy  was 
stopped,  and  the  ships  were  finally  compelled  to 
retire. 

Among  the  other  events  which  occurred  dur 
Ing  the  reign  of  King  Charles  the  Second,  and 
which  tended  to  connect  unfavorable  associa- 
tions with  the  recollection  of  it  in  the  minds  of 
men,  was  a  very  extraordinary  affair,  which  ia 
known  in  history  by  the  name  of  Titus  Oates's' 
Popish  Plot.  It  was  the  story  of  a  plot,  said  to 
have  been  formed  by  the  Catholics,  to  put  King 
Charles  to  death,  and  place  his  brother  James, 
who,  it  will  be  recollected,  was  a  Catholic,  upon 
the  throne  in  his  stead.  The  story  of  this  plot 
was  told  by  a  man  named  Titus  Gates,  and  as 
it  was  at  first  generally  believed,  it  occasioned 
infinite  trouble  and  difficulty.  In  after  times, 
however,  the  whole  story  came  to  be  regarded 
as  the  fabrication  of  Gates,  without  there  being 
any  foundation  for  it  whatever ;  hence  the  name 
of  Titus  Gates's  Popish  Plot,  by  which  the  af 
fair  has  always  since  been  designated  in  historj 
The  circumstances  were  these  : 

Among  his  other  various  accomplishments, 
King  Charles  was  quite  a  chemist  and  philoso- 
pher. He  had  a  laboratory  where  he  amused 
himself  with  experiments,  having,  cf  oourse, 


1678.]     Character  and  Reign.  269 

Klrfoy  Fonndation  uf  the  Rojii  Society. 

several  persons  associated  with  him,  and  attend- 
ant upon  him  in  these  researches.  Among  these 
was  a  man  named  Kirby.  Mr.  Kirby  was  an 
Intelligent  man,  of  agreeable  manners,  and  of 
considerable  scientific  attainments.  Charles  de- 
voted, at  some  periods  of  his  life,  a  consider- 
able portion  of  his  time  to  these  researches  in 
experimental  philosophy,  and  he  took,  likewise, 
an  interest  in  facilitating  the  progress  of  others 
in  the  same  pursuits.  There  was  a  small  so- 
ciety  of  philosophers  that  was  accustomed  to 
meet  sometimes  in  Oxford  and  sometimes  in 
London.  The  object  of  this  society  was  to  pro- 
vide apparatus  and  other  facilities  for  making 
experiments,  and  to  communicate  to  each  other 
at  their  meetings  the  result  of  their  investigar 
tions.  The  king  took  this  society  under  his 
patronage,  and  made  it,  as  it  were,  his  own 
He  gave  it  the  name  of  The  Royal,  Society, 
and  granted  it  a  charter,  by  which  it  was  incor- 
porated as  a  permanent  organization,  with  the 
most  ample  powers.  This  association  has  since 
become  one  of  the  most  celebrated  learned  so* 
oieties  in  the  world,  and  its  establishment  is  one 
of  the  very  few  transactions  of  King  Charles's 
reign  which  have  ba^n  since  remembered  with 
pleasure. 


270  King  Charles  II.  [1678. 

Klrby*!  wanilnf .  Hie  king*!  IndUTereaMti 

But  to  return  to  Mr.  Kirby.  One  day,  when 
the  king  was  walking  in  the  park  with  a  party 
of  companions  and  attendants,  who  were  sepa> 
rated  more  or  less  from  him,  as  was  usual  on 
such  occasions,  Mr.  Kirby  came  up  to  him,  and, 
with  a  mysterious  and  earnest  air,  begged  the 
king  not  to  allow  himself  to  be  separated  from 
the  company,  for  his  life,  he  said,  was  in  dan- 
ger. "  Keep  with  your  company,  sir,"  said  he ; 
"  your  enemies  have  a  design  upon  your  life 
You  may  be  suddenly  shot  on  this  very  walk." 
Charles  was  not  easily  frightened,  and  he  re- 
ceived this  announcement  with  great  compos- 
ure. He  asked  an  explanation,  however,  and 
Mr.  Kirby  informed  him  that  a  plot  had  been 
formed  by  the  Catholics  to  destroy  him ;  that 
two  men  had  been  engaged  to  shoot  him ;  and, 
to  make  the  result  doubly  sure,  another  ar- 
rangement had  been  made  to  poison  him.  Tha 
queen's  physician  was  the  person,  he  said,  who 
was  charged  with  this  latter  design.  Mr.  Kirby 
said,  moreover,  that  there  was  a  clergyman,  Dr* 
Tong,  who  was  fully  acquainted  with  all  the 
particulars  of  the  plot,  and  that,  if  the  king 
would  grant  him  an  interview  that  evening,  he 
would  make  them  all  known. 

The  king  agreed  to  this,  and  ii£  the  eveniof; 


L678.]     Character  and  Reiom.  271 

9r.  ToBf**  tntorrtew  with  Oe  Usf.  Stat*  of  the  pubUe  mind 

Dr.  Tong  was  introduced.  He  had  a  budget  of 
papers  which  he  began  to  open  and  read,  but 
Charles  had  not  patience  to  hear  them ;  his  mind 
was  full  of  a  plan  which  he  was  contemplating 
of  going  to  Windsor  the  next  day,  to  look  at 
some  new  decorations  which  he  had  ordered  foi 
several  of  the  apartments  of  the  palace.  He  did 
not  believe  in  the  existence  of  any  plot.  It  is 
true  that  plots  and  conspiracies  were  very  com- 
mon in  those  days,  but  false  rumors  and  un- 
founded tales  of  plots  were  more  common  still. 
There  was  so  much  excitement  in  the  minds  of 
the  cormnunity  on  the  subject  of  the  Catholic 
and  Protestant  faith,  and  such  vastly  extended 
interests  depended  on  whether  the  sovereign  be- 
longed to  one  side  or  the  other  on  this  question, 
that  every  thing  relating  to  the  subject  was  in- 
vested with  a  mysterious  awe,  and  the  most 
wonderful  stories  were  readily  circulated  and 
believed.  The  public  mind  was  always  partic- 
ularly sensitive  and  excitable  in  such  a  case  as 
that  of  Charles  and  his  brother  James  at  the 
time  of  which  we  are  writing,  where  the  reign- 
ing monarch,  Charles,  was  of  one  religious  £Edth> 
and  Mb  brother  James,  the  next  heir,  was  of 
the  other-  The  death  of  Charles,  which  might 
at  any  time  take  place,  would  naturally  lead  to 


272  King  Charles   II.  [1678. 

Dr.  Tong  referred  to  Danbj.  Danby't  Tlew  of  ttia  plot 

a  religious  revolution,  and  this  kept  the  whole 
community  in  an  exceedingly  excitable  and 
feverish  state.  There  was  a  great  temptation 
to  form  plots  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  great  eager- 
ness to  discover  them  on  the  other ;  and  any 
man  who  could  tell  a  story  of  treasonable 
schemes,  whether  his  tale  was  true  or  fabrica- 
ted, became  immediately  a  personage  of  great 
importance. 

Charles  was  well  aware  of  these  things,  and 
was  accordingly  disposed  to  pay  very  little  at- 
tention to  Dr.  Tong's  papers.  He  said  he  had 
no  time  to  look  into  them,  and  so  he  referred 
the  whole  case  to  the  Lord  Treasurer  Danby, 
an  officer  of  his  court,  whom  he  requested  to 
examine  into  the  affair.  Dr.  Tong,  therefore, 
laid  his  papers  before  Danby,  while  the  king 
went  off  the  next  day  to  Windsor  to  examine 
the  new  fresco  paintings  and  the  other  decora- 
tions of  the  palace. 

Danby  was  disposed  to  regard  the  story  in  a 
ver)  different  light  from  that  in  which  it  had 
appeareu  to  the  king.  It  is  said  that  there 
were  some  charges  about  to  be  brought  forward 
against  himself  for  certain  malpractices  in  hia 
office,  and  that  he  was  very  much  pleased,  ac- 
cordingly, at  the  prospect  of  having  something 


1678.]      Character    and   Reiok.         273 

V*.  Tang's  tkirj.  Titw  Oate*.  A  MMnd  fakterrlew. 

oome  ap  to  attract  public  attention,  and  turn  it 
away  from  his  own  misdemeanors.  He  listen- 
ed, therefore,  with  great  interest  to  Dr.  Tong'a 
aocount  of  the  plot,  and  made  many  minute 
and  careful  inquiries.  Dr.  Tong  informed  him 
that  he  had  himself  no  personal  knowledge  of 
the  conspiracy ;  that  the  papers,  which  contain- 
ed all  the  information  that  he  was  possessed  of, 
had  been  thrown  into  the  hall  of  his  house  from 
the  front  door,  and  that  he  did  not  certainly 
know  by  whom,  though  he  suspected,  he  said, 
one  Titus  Oates,  who  had  formerly  been  a  Cath* 
olio  priest,  and  was  still  so  far  connected  with 
the  Catholics  as  to  have  very  favorable  oppor- 
tunities to  become  acquainted  with  their  designs. 

Soon  after  this  Dr.  Tong  had  another  inter- 
view with  the  lord  treasurer,  and  informed 
him  that  his  surmise  had  proved  true  ;  that  it 
was  Titus  Oates  who  had  drawn  up  the  papers, 
and  that  he  was  informed  in  regard  to  all  the 
particulars  of  the  plot,  but  that  he  did  not  dare 
to  do  any  thing  openly  in  revealing  them,  for 
fear  that  the  conspirators  would  kill  him.  The 
lord  treasurer  oommunicated  the  result  of  his 
inquiries  to  the  king,  and  urged  the  affair  upoof 
his  attention  as  one  of  the  utmost  possible  im- 
portanee      The    king   himself,  however,  wa^ 

23—18 


274  Kino  Oharles  II.  [1678 

Tb«  king**  diabeliet  dreolatloii  of  rumors 

very  skeptical  on  the  subject.  He  laughed  at 
the  lord  treasurer's  earnestness  and  anxiety. 
The  lord  treasurer  wished  to  have  a  meeting 
of  the  council  called,  that  the  case  might  be  laid 
before  them,  but  Charles  refused.  Nobody 
should  know  any  thing  about  it,  he  said,  not 
even  his  brother.  It  would  only  create  excite- 
ment and  alarm,  and  perhaps  put  it  into  some- 
Ijody's  head  to  murder  him,  though  nobody  at 
present  had  any  such  design. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  king's  determina- 
tion not  to  give  publicity  to  the  story  of  the 
plot,  rumors  of  it  gradually  transpired,  and  be- 
gan to  excite  attention.  The  fact  that  snob 
stories  were  in  circulation  soon  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and,  of  course, 
immediately  arrested  his  earnest  attention.  As 
he  was  himself  a  Catholic,  and  the  heir  to  the 
orown,  any  suspicion  of  a  Catholic  plot  formed 
to  dethrone  his  brother  necessarily  implicated 
him.  He  demanded  an  examination  into  the 
case.  In  a  short  time,  vague  but  exaggerated 
rumors  on  the  subject  began  to  circulate  through 
the  community  at  large,  which  awakened,  of 
course,  a  very  general  anxiety  and  alarm.  So 
great  was  the  virulence  of  both  political  and 
religious  animosities    In  those  days,  that  nc 


1678.J      Character  and  REiow.  275 

Sir  Edmonlabury  Godfrey.  The  conndl  meal 

one  knew  to  what  scenes  of  persecution  or  of 
massacre  such  secret  conspiracies  might  tend 
Oates,  whose  only  object  was  to  bring  himself 
into  notice,  and  to  obtain  rewards  for  making 
known  the  plot  which  he  had  pretended  to  dis- 
cover, now  found,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  that 
the  fire  which  he  had  kindled  was  beginning  to 
bum.  The  meeting  of  the  council  was  called; 
and  he  was  summoned  to  attend  it.  Before  the 
time  arrived,  however,  he  went  to  a  justice  of 
the  peace,  and  laid  the  evidence  before  him  of 
the  existence  of  the  conspiracy,  and  of  all  the 
details  respecting  it  which  he  pretended  to  have 
discovered.  The  name  of  this  justice  was  Sir 
Edmondsbury  Godfrey.  A  remarkable  circum- 
stance afterward  occurred  in  respect  to  him,  aa 
will  presently  be  related,  which  greatly  increas- 
ed and  extended  the  popular  excitement  in  re- 
lation to  the  pretended  plot. 

The  plot,  as  Oates  invented  and  detailed  it, 
was  on  the  most  magnificent  scale  imaginable. 
The  pope  himself  was  at  the  head  of  it.  The 
pope,  he  said,  had  laid  the  subject  before  a  so- 
ciety of  learned  theologians  at  Rome,  and  they 
had  decided  that  in  such  a  case  as  that  of  Eng- 
land, where  the  sovereign  and  a  majority  of  the 
people  had  renounced  the  true  religion,  and  giv- 


276  Kino  Charles  II  [1678. 

Particulan  of  the  alleged  conspiracy  u  stated  by  Oatet. 

en  themselves  up  to  avowed  and  open  heresy, 
the  monarch  lost  all  title  to  his  crown,  and  the 
realms  thus  fallen  from  the  faith  lapsed  to  th« 
pope,  and  were  to  be  reclaimed  by  him  by  any 
mode  which  it  seemed  to  him  expedient  to  adopt. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  pope  had  as- 
sumed the  sovereignty  over  England,  and  had 
commissioned  the  society  of  the  Jesuits — a  very 
powerful  religious  society,  extending  over  most 
of  the  countries  of  Europe — ^to  take  possession 
of  the  realm ;  that,  in  the  prosecution  of  this 
plan,  the  king  was  to  be  assassinated,  and  that 
a  very  large  sum  of  money  had  been  raised  and 
set  apart,  to  be  paid  to  any  person  who  would 
kill  the  king;  that  an  offer  of  ten  thousand 
pounds  had  been  made  to  the  queen's  physician 
if  he  would  poison  him.  The  physician  had  in- 
sisted upon  fifteen  thousand  for  so  great  a  serv- 
ice, and  this  demand  had  finally  been  acceded 
to,  and  five  thousand  had  actually  been  paid 
him  in  advance.  Besides  the  murder  of  the 
king,  a  general  assassination  of  the  Protestants 
was  to  take  place.  There  were  twenty  thou- 
sand Catholics  in  London,  for  instance,  who,  ac- 
cording to  Oates's  account  of  the  plan,  were  to 
rise  on  a  preconcerted  night,  and  each  one  was 
to  kill  five  Protestants,  which  it  was  thought 


1678.]     Character  and  Reign.  277 

Oate*  contrmdleU  hhnaelf.  Increasing  excitement 

they  could  easily  do,  as  the  Protestants  would 
be  taken  wholly  by  surprise,  and  would  be  un- 
armed. The  revolution  being  thus  effected,  the 
crown  w£is  to  be  offered  to  Charles's  brother,  the 
Duke  of  York,  as  a  gift  from  the  pope,  and,  if 
he  should  refuse  to  accept  it  on  such  conditions 
as  the  pope  might  see  fit  to  impose,  he  was  him- 
self to  be  immediately  assassinated,  and  some 
other  disposal  to  be  made  of  the  kingdom. 

Gates  was  examined  before  the  council  very 
closely,  and  he  contradicted  himself  so  much, 
and  made  so  many  misstatements  about  absent 
persons,  and  the  places  where  he  pretended  that 
certain  transactions  had  taken  place,  as  to  prove 
the  falseness  of  his  whole  story.  The  public, 
however,  knew  little  or  thought  little  of  these 
proofs.  They  hated  the  Catholics,  and  were  ea- 
ger to  believe  and  to  circulate  any  thing  which 
tended  to  excite  the  public  mind  against  them. 
The  most  extravagant  stories  were  accordingly 
circulated,  and  most  excessive  and  universal 
fears  prevailed,  increasing  continually  by  the 
influence  of  mutual  action  and  reaction,  and  of 
sympathy,  until  the  whole  country  was  in  a 
state  of  terror.  A  circumstance  now  occurred 
which  added  tenfold  to  the  excitement,  and  pro- 
duced, in  fact,  a  general  consternation. 


278  King  Charles  II.  [167« 

MyatsrlouilMtliof  Godfray.  Th*  i>mJo  laewiM. 

This  oiroumstance  was  the  sudden  and  mys- 
terious death  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  the 
justice  who  had  taken  the  depositions  of  Oates 
in  respect  to  the  conspiracy.  He  had  been  miss- 
ing for  several  days,  and  at  length  his  body  was 
found  in  a  trensh,  by  the  side  of  a  field,  in  a 
solitary  place  not  far  from  London.  His  own 
sword  had  been  run  into  his  body,  and  was  re- 
maining  in  the  wound.  His  watch  and  his 
money  were  safe  in  his  pocket,  showing  that  he 
had  not  been  killed  by  robbers.  This  event 
added  greatly  to  the  excitement  that  prevailed- 
The  story  was  circulated  that  he  had  been  killed 
by  the  Catholics  for  having  aided  in  publishing 
the  discovery  of  their  plot.  They  who  wished 
to  believe  Oates's  story  found  in  the  justice's 
death  most  ample  confirmation  of  it.  The  body 
was  brought  forward  and  exhibited  to  the  pub- 
lic gaze  in  a  grand  procession,  which  moved 
through  the  streets  of  London ;  and  at  the  fu- 
neral guards  were  stationed,  one  on  each  side 
of  the  preacher,  while  he  was  delivering  the  fu- 
neral discourse,  to  impress  the  people  with  a 
sense  of  the  desperate  recklessness  of  Catholic 
hate,  by  the  implication  that  even  a  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  in  the  exercise  of  the  most  solemn 
of  his  functions,  was  not  safe  without  an  effect- 


1678.]     Character  and  Reign.  279 

Hew  Informarsappeur.  The  qaeea  knpbcated. 

From  this  time  the  excitement  and  commo- 
tion went  on  increasing  at  a  very  rapid  rate. 
Oates  himself,  of  course,  became  immediately  a 
man  of  great  importance ;  and  to  maintain  him 
self  in  his  new  position,  he  i**v«»rvte(i  continual- 
ly new  stories,  each  more  tei,J;„Avi  than  the  pre- 
ceding. New  informers,  too,  began  to  appear, 
confirming  Oates's  statements,  and  adding  new 
details  of  their  own,  that  they  might  share  his 
distinctions  and  rewards.  These  men  became 
continually  more  and  more  bold,  in  proportion 
to  the  increasing  readiness  of  the  people  to  re- 
ceive their  inventions  for  truths.  They  accused 
persons  of  higher  and  higher  rank,  until  at  last 
they  dared  to  implicate  the  queen  herself  in 
their  charges.  They  knew  that,  as  she  was  a 
Catholic,  she  was  unpopular  with  the  nation  at 
large,  and  as  Charles  had  so  many  other  lady 
favorites,  they  concluded  that  he  would  feel  no 
interest  in  vindicating  her  from  false  aspersions. 
They  accordingly  brought  forward  accusations 
against  the  queen  of  having  joined  in  the  con- 
spiracy, of  having  been  privy  to  the  plan  of 
murdering  the  king,  and  of  having  actually  ar- 
ranged and  directed  the  assassination  of  the 
justice,  Sir  Edmondsbury.  These  charges  pro- 
duced, of  course,  great  excitement.     The  peo 


280  Kino  Charles  II.  [1678 

Examlnatioii  of  wltneMM.  Tlie  Ung  defend*  the  qnewi 

pie  of  the  country  were  generally  predisposed  to 
believe  them  true.  There  were  various  inves* 
tigations  of  them,  and  long-protracted  examina- 
tions of  the  witnesses  before  the  council  and 
before  judicial  commissions  appointed  to  inquiro 
into  and  decide  upon  the  case.  These  inquisi- 
tions led  to  debates  and  disputes,  to  crimina- 
tions and  recriminations  without  numbep,  and 
they  threw  the  whole  court  and  the  whole  nation 
into  a  state  of  extreme  excitement,  some  taking 
sides  against,  and  some  in  favor  of  the  queen. 
Although  the  popular  sentiment  was  against 
her,  every  fair  and  candid  mind,  that  attended 
carefully  to  the  evidence,  decided  unhesitatingly 
in  her  favor.  The  stories  of  the  witnesses  were 
utterly  inconsistent  with  each  other,  and  in 
many  of  their  details  impossible.  Still,  so  great 
was  the  public  credulity,  and  so  eager  the  desire 
to  believe  every  thing,  however  absurd,  which 
would  arouse  and  strengthen  the  anti-Catholio 
feeling,  that  the  queen  found  herself  soon  the 
object  of  extreme  and  universal  odium. 

The  king,  however,  much  to  his  credit,  refus- 
ed all  belief  of  these  accusations  against  Catha- 
rine, and  strongly  defended  her  cause.  He  took 
oare  to  have  the  witnesses  cross  examined,  and 
to  have  the  inconsistencies  in  their  testimony, 
and  the  niter  impossibility  that  their  statement* 


1678.]      Character   and  Reign.  281 

Stoaitniu  eonaequencM  of  the  plot  Oatei  periihet  mlMrabfy. 

oonld  be  tme,  pointed  out.  He  believed,  he 
said,  that  she  was  entirely  innocent,  and  that 
the  whole  plar^  was  a  conspiracy  to  effect  her 
destruction.  "  They  think,  I  suppose,"  said  the 
king,  "that  I  should  like  a  new  wife,  but  I  will 
not  suffer  an  innocent  woman  to  be  wronged." 
He  also  told  one  of  the  ministers  of  state,  in 
speaking  of  the  subject,  that,  considering  how 
hardly  he  had  treated  his  wife,  and  how  much 
reason  she  had  for  just  complaints  against  him, 
it  would  be  an  atrocious  thing  for  him  to  aban- 
don her  in  such  an  extremity. 

A  volume  might  be  filled  with  stories  of  the 
strange  and  exciting  incidents  that  grew  out  of 
this  pretended  popish  plot.  Its  consequences 
extended  disastrously  through  many  years,  and 
involved  a  vast  number  of  innocent  persons  in 
irretrievable  ruin.  The  true  character  of  Gates 
and  his  accomplices  was,  however,  at  length 
fully  proved,  and  they  themselves  suffered  the 
fate  at  last  which  they  had  brought  upon  others. 
The  whole  affair  was  a  disgrace  to  the  age 
There  is  no  circumstance  connected  with  11 
which  can  be  looked  upon  with  any  pleasure  ex- 
cept King  Charles's  fidelity  to  his  injured  wife 
in  refusing  to  abandon  her,  though  he  no  longe» 
loved  her.  His  defense  of  her  innocence,  in 
Tolving,  as  it  did.  a  continuance  of  the  matri 


282  King   Charles  II.  [1678 

M ntlrea  of  Charle*  in  defending  hii  wife.  Hli  general  ehanwter 

monial  tie,  which  bound  them  together  when  all 
the  world  supposed  that  he  wished  it  sundered, 
seems  to  have  resulted  from  a  conscientious 
sense  of  duty,  and  implies  certain  latent  traits 
of  generosity  and  nobleness  in  Charles's  charac- 
ter, which,  though  ordinarily  overpowered  and 
nullified  by  the  influences  of  folly  and  vice,  still 
always  seem  to  have  maintained  their  hold,  and 
to  come  out  to  view  from  time  to  time,  in  the 
course  of  the  gay  monarch's  life,  whenever  any 
emergency  occurred  sufficient  to  call  them  into 
action. 

The  reign  of  King  Charles  the  Second  was 
signalized  by  many  other  untoward  and  disas- 
trous events  besides  those  which  we  have  enu- 
merated. There  were  unfortunate  wars,  great 
defeats  in  naval  battles,  unlucky  negotiations 
abroad,  and  plots  and  conspiracies,  dangerous 
and  disgraceful,  at  home.  The  king,  however, 
took  all  these  things  very  good  naturedly,  and 
allowed  them  to  interfere  very  little  with  his 
own  personal  pleasures.  Whatever  troubles  oi 
embarrassments  aflected  the  state,  he  left  the 
anxiety  and  care  which  pertained  to  them  to  his 
ministers  and  his  council,  banishing  all  solici- 
tude from  his  own  mind,  and  enjoying  himself 
all  the  time  with  his  experiments,  his  ladies^  hi» 
dogs,  and  his  perpetual  fun. 


1685.]  Tub    Conclusion.  283 

SaddsnneM  of  Cb&rlea'i  deatib.  Bla  remorrck 


Chapter  XIL 
The  Conclusion. 

TIME  rolled  on,  and  the  gay  and  pleaisnre- 
loving  king  passed  through  one  decade  aft- 
er another  of  his  career,  until  at  length  he  came 
to  be  over  fifty  years  of  age.  His  health  was 
firm,  and  his  mental  powers  vigorous.  He  look- 
ed forward  to  many  years  of  strength  and  ac- 
tivity yet  to  come,  and  thus,  though  he  had 
passed  the  meridian  of  his  life,  he  made  no  prep- 
arations to  change  the  pursuits  and  habits  in 
which  he  had  indulged  himself  in  his  early  years. 
He  died  suddenly  at  last,  at  the  age, of  fifty- 
four.  His  death  was  almost  as  sudden  as  that 
of  his  father,  though  in  a  widely  different  way. 
The  circumstances  of  his  last  sickness  have 
strongly  attracted  the  attention  of  mankind,  on 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  the  dying  king 
was  affected,  at  last,  by  remorse  at  the  recol- 
lection of  his  life  of  reckless  pleasure  and  sin, 
and  of  the  acts  to  which  this  remorse  led  bim 
open  his  dying  bed. 

The  vices  and  crimes  of  monarchs,  like  those 


284  Kino  Charles  IL  [1685. 

Mature  and  origin  «f  Charlea'i  Tlcei.  Hk  oonacienttoiuneM. 

of  other  men,  may  be  distinguished  into  two 
great  types,  characterized  by  the  feelings  of 
heart  in  which  they  take  their  origin.  Some 
of  these  crimes  arise  from  the  malignant  pas- 
sions of  the  soul,  others  from  the  irregular  and 
perverted  action  of  the  feelings  of  kindness  and 
affection.  The  errors  and  follies  of  Charles, 
ending  at  last,  as  they  did,  in  the  most  atrocious 
sins,  were  of  the  latter  class.  It  was  in  feel- 
ings of  kindness  and  good  will  toward  friends 
of  his  own  sex  that  originated  that  spirit  of  fa- 
voritism, so  unworthy  of  a  monarch,  which  ho 
so  often  evinced ;  and  even  his  irregular  and 
unhallowed  attachments  of  another  kind  seem 
to  have  been  not  wholly  selfish  and  sensual. 
The  course  of  conduct  which  he  pursued  through 
the  whole  course  of  his  life  toward  his  female 
companions,  evinced,  in  many  instances,  a  sin- 
cere attachment  to  them,  and  an  honest  desire 
to  promote  their  welfare ;  and  in  all  the  wild 
recklessness  of  his  life  of  pleasure  and  vice,  there 
was  seen  coming  out  continually  into  view  the 
influence  of  some  conscientious  sense  of  duty, 
and  of  a  desire  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
those  around  him,  and  to  do  justice  to  alL 
1'hese  principles  were,  indeed,  too  feeble  to 
withstand  the  temptations  by  which  they  wera 


1685.]  The   Conclurion.  283 


FeeUeneM  of  Charlei'f  principles.  Infloence  of  Ua  motheK 

assailed  on  every  side ;  still,  they  did  not  cease 
to  exist,  and  occasions  were  continually  occur- 
ring when  they  succeeded  in  making  their  per- 
gnasions  heard.  In  a  word,  King  Charles's  er- 
rors and  sins,  atrocious  and  inexcusable  as  they 
were,  sprang  from  ill-regulated  and  perverted 
feelings  of  love  and  good  will,  and  not  from  self- 
ishness and  hate ;  from  the  kindly,  and  not  from 
the  malignant  propensities  of  the  soul  It  is 
very  doubtful  whether  this  is  really  any  pallia- 
tion of  them,  but,  at  any  rate,  mankind  general- 
ly regard  it  so,  judging  very  leniently,  as  they 
always  do,  the  sins  and  crimes  which  have  such 
an  origin. 

It  is  probable  that  Charles  derived  whatever 
moral  principle  and  sensitiveness  of  conscience 
ihat  he  possessed  from  the  influence  of  his  moth- 
er in  his  early  years.  She  was  a  faithfal  and 
devoted  Catholic  ;  she  honestly  and  firmly  be- 
lieved that  the  rites  and  usages  of  the  Catholic 
Church  were  divinely  ordained,  and  that  a  care- 
ful and  honest  conformity  to  them  was  the  only 
way  to  please  God  and  to  prepare  for  heaven- 
She  did  all  in  her  power  to  bring  up  her  chil- 
dren in  this  faith,  and  in  the  high  moral  and  re- 
Ugious  principles  of  conduct  which  were,  in  her 
mind,  indissolubly  connected  with  it.     She  de- 


286  Kiwo  CfeARLEs  II.  [1685, 

Mary  d«  lledleL  Extent  and  duration  of  maternal  influence 

rived  this  spirit,  ia  her  turn,  from  her  mother, 
Mary  de  Medici,  who  was  one  of  the  most  ex 
traordinary  characters  of  ancient  or  modern 
times.  When  Henrietta  Maria  was  married 
to  Charles  I.  and  went  to  England,  this  Mary 
de  Medici,  her  mother,  wrote  her  a  letter  of 
counsel  and  of  farewell,  which  we  recommend 
to  our  readers'  careful  perusal.  It  is  true,  we 
go  back  to  the  third  generation  from  the  hero 
of  this  story  to  reach  the  document,  but  it  il- 
lustrates so  well  the  maimer  in  which  maternal 
influence  passes  down  from  age  to  age,  and 
throws  so  much  light  on  the  strange  scenes 
which  occurred  at  Charles's  death,  and  is,  more- 
over, so  intrinsically  excellent,  that  it  well  mer« 
its  the  digression. 

The  queen-mother,  Mary  de  Medici,  to  the  young  Queen  oj 
England,  Henrietta  Maria. 

X163S,  Jane  29. 
"  Mt  DAcaHTEn,— You  separate  from  me,  I  can  not  sepa 
rate  myself  from  yon.  I  retain  you  in  heart  uid  memory, 
and  would  that  this  paper  could  serve  for  an  eternal  memorial 
to  yon  of  what  I  am ;  it  would  then  supply  my  place,  and 
•peak  for  me  to  yon,  when  I  can  no  longer  speak  for  myself 
I  give  you  it  with  my  last  adieu  in  qmtting  you,  to  impress  it 
the  more  on  your  mind,  and  give  it  to  yon  written  with  my 
own  hand,  in  order  that  it  may  be  the  more  dear  to  you,  and 
that  it  may  have  more  authority  with  you  in  all  that  regards 
your  conduct  toward  God,  the  king  your  husband,  his  mb- 
jccts.  your  domestics,  and  yourself.    I  t«ll  yoo  here  sincerely 


1685.]  The   Conclusion.  287 

Letter  from  Mary  de  Medici  to  her  daughter  Henrietta  llaita. 

u  in  the  last  hour  of  oar  converse,  all  I  should  say  to  you  in 
the  last  hour  of  my  existence,  if  you  should  be  near  me  then. 
I  consider,  to  my  great  regret,  that  such  can  never  be,  and 
that  the  separation  now  taking  place  between  you  and  me  for 
m  long  time,  is  too  probably  an  anticipation  of  that  which  k 
to  be  forever  in  this  world. 

"  On  this  earth  you  have  only  God  for  a  father ;  but,  as  b« 
is  eternal,  you  can  never  lose  him.  It  is  he  who  sustains  yoar 
existence  and  life ;  it  is  he  who  has  given  you  to  a  great  king; 
It  is  he  who,  at  this  time,  places  a  crown  on  your  brow,  and 
will  establish  yon  in  England,  where  you  ought  to  believe 
that  he  requires  your  service,  and  there  be  means  to  effect 
your  salvation.  Bemember,  my  child,  every  day  of  your  life, 
that  he  is  your  God,  who  has  put  you  on  earth  intending  you 
for  heaven,  who  has  created  you  for  himself  and  for  his  glory. 

"The  late  king,  your  father,  has  already  passed  away; 
there  remains  no  more  of  him  but  a  little  dust  and  ashes,  hid- 
den fixtm  our  eyes.  One  of  your  brothers  has  already  been 
taken  from  ns  even  in  his  infancy ;  God  withdrew  him  at  his 
«wn  good  pleasure.  He  has  retained  you  in  the  world  in  or» 
der  to  load  you  with  his  benefits ;  but,  as  he  has  given  yoa 
the  utmost  felicity,  it  behooves  you  to  render  him  the  utmost 
gratitude.  It  is  but  just  that  your  duties  are  augmented  in 
proportion  as  the  benefits  and  &vors  you  receive  are  signal. 
Take  heed  of  abusing  them.  Think  well  that  the  grandeur 
goodness,  and  justice  of  God  are  infinite,  and  employ  all  the 
strength  of  your  mind  in  adoring  his  supreme  puissance,  in 
loving  his  inviolable  goodness ;  and  fear  his  rigorous  equity, 
which  will  make  all  responsible  who  are  unworthy  of  his 
benefits 

"  Receive,  my  child,  these  instructions  of  my  lips ;  begin 
and  finish  every  day  in  your  oratory,"  with  good  thoughts 

*  An  oratory  is  a  little  closet  furnished  appropriately  far 
pnyer  and  other  exercises  of  devotion. 


268  Kino  Charles  IL  [1685. 

Letter  from  Mary  de  Medici  to  her  daughter  Henrietta  Uaila. 

ajki,  in  joor  prayers,  ask  resolation  to  conduct  your  life  ao- 
cording  to  the  laws  of  God,  and  not  according  to  the  ranitiea 
of  this  world,  which  is  for  all  of  ns  but  a  moment,  in  which 
we  are  saspended  over  eternity,  which  we  shall  pass  either 
in  the  paradise  of  God,  or  in  hek  with  the  malign  spirits  vrht> 
work  evil. 

"  Remember  that  yoa  are  daughter  of  the  Church  by  Imp 
tism,  and  that  this  is,  indeed,  the  first  and  highest  rank  whick 
you  have  or  ever  will  have,  since  it  is  this  which  will  give  yo« 
entrance  into  heaven ;  your  other  dignities,  coming  as  they  do 
from  the  earth,  will  not  go  farther  than  the  earth ;  but  thoM 
which  yon  derive  from  heaven  will  ascend  again  to  theh 
source,  and  carry  you  with  them  there.  Bender  thanks  to 
heaven  each  day,  to  God  who  has  made  you  a  Ohristian ;  es- 
timate this  first  of  benefits  as  it  deserves,  and  consider  all  that 
you  owe  to  the  labors  and  precious  blood  of  Jesus  our  Savior; 
it  ought  to  be  paid  for  by  our  sufiferings,  and  even  by  our 
blood,  if  he  requires  it.  Offer  your  soul  and  your  life  to  him 
who  has  created  you  by  his  puissance,  and  redeemed  you  by 
his  goodness  and  mercy.  Pray  to  him,  and  pray  incessantly 
to  preserve  yon  by  the  inestimable  gift  of  his  grace,  and  that 
it  may  please  him  that  you  sooner  lose  your  life  than  renounce 
him. 

"  You  are  the  descendant  of  St.  Louis.  I  would  recall  to 
yoQ,  in  this  my  last  adieu,  the  same  instruction  that  he  re- 
ceived from  his  mother,  Queen  Blanche,  who  said  to  him  often 
'  that  she  would  rather  see  him  die  than  to  live  so  as  to  offend 
God,  in  whom  we  move,  and  who  is  the  end  of  our  being' 
It  was  with  such  precepts  that  he  commenced  his  holy  cm- 
reer ;  it  was  this  that  rendered  him  worthy  of  employing  bia 
life  and  reign  for  the  good  of  the  faith  and  the  exaltation  o 
the  Ohurch.  Be,  sifter  his  example,  firan  and  zealous  for  re- 
ligion, which  yon  have  been  taught,  for  the  defense  of  which , 
he,  your  royal  and  holy  ancestor,  exposed  his  life,  and  died 
fiuthfol  to  him  among  the  infidels.     Nerer  listen  to.  or  suffix 


1685.]  The    Conclusion.  2»9 

Tba  king  oomplaina  of  belnf  ■nweUL  Caroiuali  in  the  palaott. 

to  be  said  in  your  preaience,  aught  in  contradiction  to  your  b©. 
lief  in  God  and  his  only  Son,  yoor  Lord  and  Redeemer.  I 
entreat  the  Holy  Virgin,  whose  name  you  bear,  to  deign  to  b« 
the  mother  of  your  soul,  and  in  honor  of  her  who  is  mother 
of  oar  Lord  and  Savior,  I  bid  you  adieu  again  and  many  times. 

"  I  now  devote  you  to  Grod  forever  and  ever  5  it  is  what  I 
desire  for  you  from  the  very  depth  of  my  heart. 

"  Your  very  good  and  affectionate  mother,        Maria. 

"  From  Amien*,  the  10th  of  June,  1685." 

The  devout  sense  of  responsibility  to  Al' 
mighty  God,  and  the  spirit  of  submission  and 
obedienoe  to  his  will,  which  this  letter  breathes, 
descended  from  the  grandmother  to  the  mother, 
and  were  even  instilled,  in  some  degree,  into 
the  heart  of  the  son.  They  remained,  however, 
iatent  and  dormant  through  the  long  years  of 
the  monarch's  life  of  frivolity  and  sin,  but  they 
revived  and  reasserted  their  dominion  when  tha 
end  came. 

The  dying  scene  opened  upon  the  king's  vision 
in  a  very  abrupt  and  sudden  manner.  He  had 
been  somewhat  unwell  during  a  certain  day  ia 
February,  when  he  was  about  fifty-four  years 
of  age.  His  illness,  however,  did  not  interrupt 
the  ordinary  orgies  and  carousals  of  his  palaoei 
It  was  Sunday.  In  the  evening  a  very  gay  as- 
sembly was  convened  in  the  apartments,  en- 
gaged in  deep  gaming,  £ind  other  dissolute  and 
vicious  pleasures.     The  king  mingled  in  theM 

23—19 


290  Kino  Charles  IL  [16S5, 

The  King  struck  with  apoplexy.  Mode  of  treatmenti 

scenes,  though  he  complained  of  being  unw^'lL 
His  head  was  giddy — his  appetite  was  gon&— 
his  walk  was  unsteady.  When  the  party  broke 
np  at  midnight,  he  went  into  one  of  the  neigh- 
boring apartments,  and  they  prepared  for  him 
some  light  and  simple  food  suitable  for  a  sick 
man,  but  he  could  not  take  it.  He  retired  to 
his  bed,  but  he  passed  a  restless  and  uneasy 
night.  He  arose,  however,  the  next  morning, 
and  attempted  to  dress  himself,  but  before  he 
finished  the  work  he  was  suddenly  struck  by 
that  grim  and  terrible  messenger  and  coadjutor 
of  death — apoplexy — as  by  a  blow.  Stunned 
by  the  stroke,  he  staggered  and  fell. 

The  dreadful  paroxysm  of  insensibility  and 
seeming  death  in  a  case  of  apoplexy  is  supposed 
to  be  occasioned  by  a  pressure  of  blood  upon  the 
brain,  and  the  remedy,  according  to  the  practice 
of  those  days,  was  to  bleed  the  patient  immedi- 
ately to  relieve  this  pressure,  and  to  blister  or 
cauterize  the  head,  to  excite  a  high  external  ac- 
tion as  a  means  of  subduing  the  disease  within. 
It  was  the  law  of  England  that  such  violent 
remedies  could  not  be  resorted  to  in  the  case  of 
the  sovereign  without  authority  previously  ob- 
tained from  the  council  They  were  guilty  of 
high  treason  who  should  presume  to  do  so.     Thia 


1685.]  Thb  Conclusion.  291 

Serere  miMdle*.  Th«  qaaea  iUnti. 

was  a  case,  however,  which  admitted  of  no  de 
lay  The  attendants  put  their  own  lives  at 
hazard  to  serve  that  of  the  king.  They  bled 
him  with  a  penknife,  and  heated  the  iron  for 
the  cautery.  The  alarm  was  spread  throughout 
the  palace,  producing  universal  confusion.  The 
queen  was  summoned,  and  came  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible to  the  scene.  She  found  her  husband  sit- 
ting senseless  in  a  chair,  a  basin  of  blood  by  his 
side,  his  countenance  death-like  and  ghastly, 
while  some  of  the  attendants  were  attempting 
to  force  the  locked  jaws  apart,  that  they  might 
administer  a  potion,  and  others  were  applying 
a  red-hot  iron  to  the  patient's  head,  in  a  des- 
perate endeavor  to  arouse  and  bring  back  again 
into  action  the  benumbed  and  stupefied  sensi- 
bilities. Queen  Catharine  was  so  shocked  by 
the  horrid  spectacle  that  she  sank  down  in  a 
fit  of  fainting  and  convulsions,  and  was  borne 
immediately  away  back  to  her  own  apartment. 
In  two  hours  the  patient's  suspended  facul- 
ties began  to  return.  He  looked  wildly  about 
him,  and  asked  for  the  queen.  They  sent  for 
her.  She  was  not  able  to  oome.  She  was, 
however,  so  far  restored  as  to  be  able  to  send  a 
message  and  an  apology,  saying  that  she  was 
nry  glad  to  hear  that  he  was  better,  and  wai 


293  Kino  Charles  IL  [1685 

Hw  qneen'i  meMage.  Condition  of  the  kln^ 

much  conoerned  that  she  could  not  come  to  see 
him ;  she  also  added,  that  for  whatever  she  had 
done  in  the  course  of  her  life  to  displease  him, 
she  now  asked  his  pardon,  and  hoped  he  would 
forgive  her.  The  attendants  communicated 
this  message  to  the  king.  "  Poor  lady !"  said 
Charles,  "  she  beg  my  pardon !  I  am  sure  J 
beg  hers,  with  all  my  heart." 

Apoplexy  fulfills  the  dread  behest  of  its  tei- 
rible  master  Death  by  dealing  its  blow  once  with 
a  fatal  energy,  and  then  retiring  from  the  field, 
ieaving  the  stunned  and  senseless  patient  to  re- 
cover in  some  degree  from  the  first  effect  of  the 
stroke,  but  only  to  sink  down  and  die  at  last 
under  the  permanent  and  irretrievable  injuries 
which  almost  invariably  follow. 

Things  took  this  course  in  the  case  of  Charles 
He  revived  from  the  stupor  and  insensibility 
of  the  first  attack,  and  lay  afterward  for  several 
days  upon  his  bed,  wandering  in  mind,  helpless 
in  body,  fall  of  restlessness  and  pain,  and  /et 
conscious  of  his  condition.  He  saw,  dimly 
tnd  obscurely  indeed,  but  yet  with  awful  cer- 
tainty, that  his  ties  to  earth  had  been  sudden- 
ly sundered,  and  that  there  only  remained  to 
him  now  a  brief  and  troubled  interval  of  mental 
bewilderment  and  3odily  distress,  to  last  for  a 


1685.]  The  Conclusioh.  293 

Goofusion  In  the  palace.  The  Doko  of  York.  The  queen 

few  more  hours  or  days,  and  then  he  must  ap- 
pear before  that  dread  tribunal  where  his  last 
account  was  to  be  rendered ;  and  the  vast  work 
of  preparation  for  the  solemn  judgment  was  yet 
to  be  made.     How  was  this  to  be  done  ? 

Of  course,  the  great  palace  of  Whitehall, 
where  the  royal  patient  was  lying,  was  all  in 
confusion.  Attendants  were  hurrying  to  and 
fro-  Councils  of  physicians  were  deliberating 
in  solemn  assemblies  on  the  case,  and  ordain- 
ing prescriptions  with  the  formality  which  roy- 
al etiquette  required.  The  courtiers  were  thun- 
derstruck and  confounded  at  the  prospect  of  the 
total  revolution  which  was  about  to  ensue,  and 
in  which  all  their  hopes  and  prospects  might  be 
totally  ruined.  James,  the  Duke  of  York,  see- 
ing himself  about  to  be  suddenly  summoned  to 
the  throne,  was  full  of  eager  interest  in  the  pre- 
liminary arrangements  to  secure  his  safe  and 
ready  accession.  He  was  engaged  night  £ind 
day  in  selecting  officers,  signing  documents, 
and  stationing  guards.  Catharine  mourned  in 
her  own  sick  chamber  the  approaching  blow, 
which  was  to  separate  her  forever  from  her  hus- 
band, deprive  her  of  her  consequence  and  her 
rank,  and  consign  her,  for  the  rest  of  her  days, 
to  the  pains  and  sorrows,  and  the  dreadful  sol« 


294  Kino  Charles  11.  |ie»5 

The  king**  female  Intimates.  Anzietj  of  the  natioiiK 

itude  of  heart  which  pertains  to  widowhood 
The  king's  other  female  intimates,  too,  of  whom 
there  were  three  still  remaining  in  his  court 
and  in  his  palace,  were  distracted  with  real 
grief.  They  may  have  loved  him  sincerely ; 
they  certainly  gave  every  indication  of  true  af- 
fection for  him  in  this  his  hour  of  extremity. 
They  could  not  appear  at  his  bedside  except 
at  sudden  and  stolen  interviews,  which  were 
quickly  terminated  by  their  being  required  to 
withdraw ;  but  they  hovered  near  with  anxious 
inquiries,  or  else  mourned  in  their  apartments 
with  bitter  grief.  Without  the  palace  the  ef- 
fects were  scarcely  less  decisive.  The  tidings 
spread  every  where  throughout  the  kingdom, 
arresting  universal  attention,  and  awakening 
an  anxiety  so  widely  diffused  and  so  intense  as 
almost  to  amount  to  a  terror.  A  Catholic  mon- 
arch was  about  to  ascend  the  throne,  and  no 
one  knew  what  national  calamities  were  im- 
pending. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  dying  monarch  lay 
helpless  upon  his  bed,  in  the  alcove  of  his  apart- 
ment, distressed  and  wretched.  To  look  back 
np(Hi  the  past  filled  him  with  remorse,  and  the 
dread  futurity,  now  close  at  hand,  was  full  of 
images  of  terror  and  dismay.     He  thought  of 


1686.;  The    Conclusion.  2di 

Cfaarlea't  distreM  of  mind.  His  anzletle*  and  fearii. 

his  wife,  and  of  the  now  utterly  irreparable  in- 
juries which  he  had  done  her.  He  thought  of  his 
other  intimates  and  their  numerous  children, 
and  of  the  condition  in  which  they  would  be  left 
by  his  death.  If  he  had  been  more  entirely 
sensual  and  selfish  in  his  attachments,  he  would 
have  suffered  less ;  but  he  could  not  dismiss 
these  now  wretched  participators  in  his  sins 
from  his  mind.  He  could  do  very  little  now  to 
promote  their  future  welfare,  or  to  atone  for  the 
injury  which  he  had  done  them ;  but  his  anxie- 
ty to  do  so,  as  well  as  his  utter  helplessness  in 
accomplishing  his  desire,  was  evinced  by  his 
saying,  in  his  last  charge  to  his  brother  James, 
just  before  he  died,  that  he  hoped  he  would  be 
kind  to  his  children,  and  especially  not  let  poor 
Nelly  starve.* 

Troubled  and  distressed  with  these  thoughts, 
and  still  more  anxious  and  wretched  at  the  pros- 
pect of  his  own  approaching  summons  before  the 
bar  of  God,  the  fallen  monarch  lay  upon  his  dy- 
ing bed,  earnestly  desiring,  but  not  daring  to 
ask  for,  the  only  possible  relief  which  was  now 
left  to  him,  the  privilege  of  seeking  refuge  in 
the  religions  hopes  and  consolations  which  his 

*  Bleanor  Gwyn.     She  was  an  actress  when  Ohulet  flrst> 
became  acqaaiated  with  her. 


296  King  Charles  II.  [1685 

Charle«'i  •ttaehment  to  the  Catholic- faith.  The  Chnreh  of  England. 

mother,  in  years  now  long  gone  by,  had  vainly 
attempted  to  teach  him  to  love.  The  way  of 
salvation  through  the  ministrations  and  observ- 
ances of  the  Catholic  service  was  the  only  way 
of  salvation  that  he  could  possibly  see.  It  is 
true  that  he  had  been  all  his  life  a  Protestant, 
but  Protestantism  was  to  him  only  a  political 
faith  ,  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  moral  account- 
ability or  preparation  for  heaven.  The  spirit- 
ual views  of  acceptance  with  God  by  simple 
personal  penitence  and  faith  in  the  atoning  sac- 
rifice of  his  Son,  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of 
the  system  of  the  Church  of  England,  he  never 
conceived  of.  The  Church  of  England  was  to 
him  a  mere  empty  form ;  it  was  the  service  of 
the  ancient  Catholic  faith,  disrobed  of  its  sanc- 
tions, despoiled  of  its  authority,  and  deprived 
of  all  its  spirit  and  soul.  It  was  the  mere  idle 
form  of  godless  and  heartless  men  of  the  world, 
empty  and  vain.  It  had  answered  his  purpose 
as  a  part  of  the  pageantry  of  state  during  his 
life  of  pomp  and  pleasure,  but  it  seemed  a  mock- 
ery to  him  now,  as  a  means  of  leading  his  wretch- 
ed and  ruined  soul  to  a  reconciliation  with  hia 
Maker.  Every  thing  that  was  sincere,  and 
earnest,  and  truly  devout,  in  the  duties  of  pie- 
ty, were  associated  in  his  mind  with  the  mera- 


1685.]  The   CoNCLU8Io^.  297 

Charles  wlahea  for  a  prieat.  Dlfficnltie*  In  HtB  way 

■  ■  t 

ory  of  his  mother ;  and  as  death  drew  nigh,  he 
longed  to  return  to  her  fold,  and  to  have  a  priest, 
who  was  clothed  with  the  authority  to  which 
her  spirit  had  been  accustomed  to  bow,  come 
and  be  the  mediator  between  himself  and  his 
Maker,  and  secure  and  confirm  the  reconciliation. 
But  how  could  this  be  done?  It  was  worse 
than  treason  to  aid  or  abet  the  tainting  of  the 
Boul  of  an  English  Protestant  king  with  the 
abominations  of  popery.  The  king  knew  this 
very  well,  and  was  aware  that  if  he  were  to 
make  his  wishes  known,  whoever  should  assist 
him  in  attaining  the  object  of  his  desire  would 
hazard  his  life  by  the  act.  Knowing,  too,  in 
what  abhorrence  the  Catholic  faith  was  held,  he 
naturally  shrank  from  avowing  his  convictions ; 
and  thus  deterred  by  the  difficulties  which  sur- 
rounded him,  he  gave  himself  up  to  despair,  and 
let  the  hours  move  silently  on  which  were  draw- 
ing him  so  rapidly  toward  the  grave.  There 
were,  among  the  other  attendants  and  courtiers 
who  crowded  around  his  bedside,  several  high 
dignitaries  of  the  Church.  At  one  time  five 
bishops  were  in  his  chamber.  They  proposed 
repeatedly  that  the  king  should  partake  of  the 
sacrament.  This  was  a  customary  rite  to'  be 
performed  upon  the  dying,  it  being  considered 


298 

K 

IN9 

Charles 

11. 

[1685 

The  qoeoB'i 

ITltlU. 

Her  great  diitreM, 

the  symbol  and  seal  of  a  final  reconciliation 
with  God  and  preparation  for  heaven.  When- 
ever the  propDsal  was  made,  the  king  declined 
or  evaded  it.  He  said  he  was  "  too  weak,"  or 
♦not now,"  or  "there  will  be  time  enough  yet;" 
and  thus  day  after  day  moved  on. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  anxious  and  unhappy 
queen  had  so  far  recovered  that  she  came  to 
see  the  king,  and  was  often  at  his  bedside,  watch- 
ing his  symptoms  and  mourning  over  his  ap- 
proaching fate.  These  interviews  were,  how- 
ever, all  public,  for  the  large  apartment  in  which 
the  king  was  lying  was  always  full.  There  were 
ladies  of  the  court,  too,  who  claimed  the  privi- 
lege which  royal  etiquette  accorded  them  of  al- 
ways accompanying  the  queen  on  these  visits  to 
the  bedside  of  her  dying  husband.  She  could 
say  nothing  in  private ;  and  then,  besides,  hei 
agitation  and  distress  were  so  extreme,  that  she 
was  incapable  of  any  thing  like  calm  and  oon- 
siderate  action. 

Among  the  favorite  intimates  of  the  king, 
perhaps  the  most  prominent  was  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth.  The  king  himself  had  raised 
her  to  that  rank.  She  was  a  French  girl,  who 
came  over,  wiginally,  from  the  Continent  with 
a  party  of  visitors  from  the  French  court.    He* 


1685.]  The  Conclusion.  299 

ne  DncbeM  of  Portsmouth.  The  French  embMsadoc 

beauty,  her  wit,  and  her  accomplishments  soon 
made  her  a  great  favorite  with  the  king,  and 
for  many  years  of  his  life  she  had  exerted  an 
unbounded  and  a  guilty  influence  over  him. 
She  was  a  Catholic.  Though  not  allowed  to 
come  to  his  bedside,  she  remained  in  her  apart- 
ment overwhelmed  with  grief  at  the  approach- 
ing death  of  her  lover,  and,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  she  was  earnestly  desirous  to  obtain  for 
him  the  spiritual  succors  which,  as  a  Catholic, 
she  considered  essential  to  his  dying  in  peace 
After  repeated  and  vain  endeavors  made  in  oth- 
er ways  to  accomplish  her  object,  she  at  length 
sent  for  the  French  embassador  to  come  to  her 
rooms  from  the  king's  chamber,  and  urged  him 
to  do  something  to  save  the  dying  sinner's  souL 
"  He  is  in  heart  a  Catholic,"  said  she.  "  I  am 
Bure  he  wishes  to  receive  the  Catholic  sacra- 
ments. I  can  not  do  any  thing,  and  the  Duke 
of  York  is  so  full  of  business  and  excitement 
that  he  does  not  think  of  it.  But  something 
must  be  done." 

The  embassador  went  in  pursuit  of  the  Duke 
of  York.  He  took  him  aside,  and  with  great 
caution  and  secrecy  suggested  the  subject 
"  You  are  right,"  said  the  duke,  "  and  there  !■ 
DO  time  to  lose."     The  duke  went  to  the  king's 


300  King  Charles  II.  [1686. 

The  propoBal  to  Charles.  Ha  mooepta  It 

chamber.  The  English  clergymen  had  just 
been  offering  the  king  the  sacrament  once  more, 
and  he  had  declined  it  again.  James  asked 
them  to  retire  from  the  alcove,  as  he  wished  to 
cpeak  privately  to  his  majesty.  They  did  so, 
supposing  that  he  wished  to  communicate  with 
him  on  some'  business  of  state.  "  Sire,"  said 
the  duke  to  his  dying  brother,  "  you  decline  the 
sacraments  of  the  Protestant  Church,  will  you 
receive  those  of  the  Catholic?"  The  counte- 
nance of  the  dying  man  evinced  a  faint  though 
immediate  expression  of  returning  animation 
and  pleasure  at  this  suggestion.  "Yes,"  said 
he,  "  I  would  give  every  thing  in  the  world  to* 
see  a  priest."  "I  will  bring  you  one,"  said 
James.  "  Do,"  said  the  king,  "  for  God's  sake, 
do ;  but  shall  you  not  expose  yourself  to  danger 
by  it ?"  "I  will  bring  you  one,  though  it  cost 
me  my  life,"  replied  the  duke.  This  conversa* 
tion  was  held  in  a  whisper,  to  prevent  its  being 
overheard  by  the  various  groups  in  the  room. 
The  duke  afterward  said  that  he  had  to  repeat 
his  words  several  times  to  make  the  king  com- 
prehend them,  his  sense  of  hearing  having  ob- 
viously begun  to  fail. 

There  was  great  difficulty  in  procuring  e 
priest.     The  French  and  Spanish  priests  aboat 


1685.]  The    Conclusion.  301 

Father  Hnddletton.  The  dlagoiaft 

the  court,  who  were  attached  to  the  service  of 
thi  embtissadors  and  of  the  queen,  excused  them- 
selves on  various  pretexts.  They  were,  in  fact, 
afraid  of  the  consequences  to  themselves  which 
might  follow  from  an  act  so  strictly  prohibited 
by  law  At  last  an  English  priest  was  found. 
His  name  was  Huddleston.  He  had,  at  one 
time,  concealed  the  king  in  his  house  during 
his  adventures  and  wanderings  after  the  battle 
of  Worcester.  On  account  of  this  service,  he 
had  been  protected  by  the  government  of  the 
king,  ever  since  that  time,  from  the  pains  and 
penalties  which  had  driven  most  of  the  Catholio 
priests  from  the  kingdom. 

They  sent  for  Father  Huddleston  to  come  to 
the  palace.  He  arrived  about  seven  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  They  disguised  him  with  a  wig 
and  cassock,  which  was  the  usual  dress  of  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England.  As  the 
illegal  ceremony  about  to  be  performed  required 
tiie  most  absolute  secrecy,  it  became  necessary 
to  remove  all  the  company  from  the  room.  The 
dnke  accordingly  informed  them  that  the  king 
wished  to  be  alone  for  a  short  period,  and  he 
therefore  requested  that  they  would  withdraw 
into  the  ante-room.  When  they  bad  done  so, 
Father  Huddlestcm  was  brought  in  by  a  litti« 


802 

Kino   Charles  11. 

[1685 

Hw  secret  door. 

A  ■olemn  neos 

door  near  the  head  of  the  bed,  which  opened  di« 
reotly  into  the  alcove  where  the  bed  was  laid. 
There  was  a  narrow  space  or  alley  by  the  side 
of  the  bed,  within  the  alcove,  called  the  ruelle  /* 
with  this  the  private  door  communicated  direct- 
ly, and  the  party  attending  the  priest,  entering, 
stationed  themselves  there,  to  perform  in  secre- 
cy and  danger  the  last  solemn  rites  of  Catholic 
preparation  for  heaven.  It  was  an  extraordi- 
nary scene ;  the  mighty  monarch  of  a  mighty 
realm,  hiding  from  the  vigilance  of  his  own 
laws,  that  he  might  steal  an  opportunity  to  es- 
cape the  consequences  of  having  violated  the 
laws  of  heaven. 

They  performed  over  the  now  helpless  mon- 
arch the  rites  which  the  Catholic  Church  pre- 
scribes for  the  salvation  of  the  dying  sinner. 
These  rites,  though  empty  and  unmeaning  cer 
emonies  to  those  who  have  no  religious  faith  in 
them,  are  full  of  the  most  profound  impressive- 
ness  and  solemnity  for  those  who  have.  The 
priest,  having  laid  aside  his  Protestant  disguise, 
administered  the  sacrament  of  the  mass,  which 
was,  according  to  the  Catholic  views,  a  true  and 

*  Boell*  i»  •  French  word,  meaning  little  atreet  or  aJlej 
This  WBj  to  the  bed  was  the  one  so  often  referred  to  in  th« 
hiBtories  of  those  times  by  the  phrase  "  the  back  stain  " 


1685.]  The   Cokclusion.  303 

Hie  eonfewlnn.  The  pardoa.  Tlw  extreme  nacfoik 

actual  re-enacting  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  to 
enure  to  the  special  benefit  of  the  individual 
«Dul  for  which  it  was  offered.  The  priest  then 
received  the  penitent's  confession  of  sin,  ex- 
pressed in  a  faint  and  feeble  assent  to  the  words 
of  contrition  which  the  Church  prescribes,  and 
this  was  followed  by  a  pardon — a  true  and  act- 
ual pardon,  as  the  sinner  supposed,  granted  and 
declared  by  a  commissioner  fully  empowered  by 
authority  from  heaven  both  to  grant  and  declare 
it.  Then  came  the  "  extreme  unction,"  or,  in 
other  words,  the  last  anointing,  in  which  a  little 
consecrated  oil  was  touched  to  the  eyelids,  the 
lips,  the  ears,  and  the  hands,  as  a  symbol  and 
a  seal  of  the  final  purification  and  sanctifica- 
tion  of  the  senses,  which  had  been  through  life 
the  means  and  instruments  of  sin.  The  extreme 
miction  is  the  last  rite.  Thw  being  performed, 
the  dying  CathoHc  leels  that  all  is  weU.  His 
sins  have  been  atoned  for  and  forgiven,  and  he 
has  himself  been  purified  and  sanctified,  soul 
and  body.  The  services  in  Charles's  case  oc- 
enpied  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  and  then  the 
doors  were  opened  and  the  attendants  and  com- 
pany were  admitted  again. 

The  night  passed  on,  and  though  the  king** 
mind  was  relieved,  he  suffered  much  bodily  ago- 


304  Kino  Charles  II.  [1685 

ChariM  Mka  to  Me  tb«  ran.  His  deattk 

ny.  In  the  morning,  when  he  perceived  that 
it  was  light,  he  asked  the  attendants  to  open  the 
oartains,  that  he  might  see  the  sun  for  the  last 
time.  It  gave  him  but  a  momentary  pleasure, 
for  he  was  restless  and  in  great  suffering.  Some 
pains  which  he  endured  increased  so  much  that 
it  was  decided  to  bleed  him.  The  operation  re- 
lieved the  suffering,  but  exhausted  the  sufferer's 
strength  so  that  he  soon  lost  the  power  of  speech, 
and  lay  afterward  helpless  and  almost  insensi- 
ble,  longing  for  the  relief  which  now  nothing 
bat  death  could  bring  him.  This  continued  til] 
about  noon,  when  he  ceased  to  breathe. 


The  End. 


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